FEATHER

BOOK ONE

ABRA EBNER

Text Copyright © 2009 Abra Ebner

All rights reserved. Except under the U.S. Copyright act of 1976,

no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any  form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Crimson Oak Publishing

Pullman, WA 99163

Visit our website at www.CrimsonOakPublishing.com

the characters, events, and locations portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or real locations is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Ebner, Abra, 1984 -

Feather : A novel / by Abra Ebner

www.FeatherBookSeries.com

Summary: Love spans and eternity, at least for Edgar and Estella. As she fights to figure out her past, she finds something much more. There is a whole world of history about her and her complicated special life. Estella comes into her own in her first great adventure, in the life she was born to live, and die for.

Printed in U.S.A

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

For my friends -

Love hits us all, if not in this life,

then maybe the next.

Have hope.

The Raven

Edgar A. Poe, 1845

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

’Tis some visitor,’ I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -

Only this, and nothing more.’

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -

Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

`’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -

This it is, and nothing more,’

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

`Sir,’ said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you’ - here I opened wide the door; -

Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before

But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!’

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!’

Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

`Surely,’ said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;

Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -

‘Tis the wind and nothing more!’

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.

Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,’ I said, `art sure no craven.

Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!’

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;

For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -

Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,

With such name as `Nevermore.’

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -

Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -

On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.’

Then the bird said, `Nevermore.’

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

`Doubtless,’ said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,

Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster

Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -

Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore

Of “Never-nevermore.”’

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;

Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore

Meant in croaking `Nevermore.’

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;

This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,

But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,

She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, me thought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

`Wretch,’ I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee

Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!’

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’

`Prophet!’ said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -

Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -

On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -

Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!’

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’

`Prophet!’ said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?’

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!’ I shrieked upstarting -

`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!’

Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.’

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted - nevermore!

PREFACE

Once upon a time, the gods created a being far greater than anything in existence. These beings, the highest form of human life, were closer to god than even the angels, and their beauty far more appealing than any earthly creation.

The gods, upon seeing such a beautiful creation grew jealous. The being needed no love, longed for no power, and hungered for no nourishment of either mind or soul. Their flawless creation was angelically perfect, and therefore appallingly wrong, for nothing could be more perfect than the gods themselves.

As the being flourished, troubled by nothing, the gods grew dark and vindictive. In their hatred they mused and the plan they constructed was horrid, inhumane, and dark. They chose to split the perfect soul for eternity, the gods finding themselves ultimately endangered by their creations power and strength. In one swift movement they ripped the being apart, creating two hearts, both sharing one soul.

One half was the creator, the life and energy of the earth, and the mother of man. The other half was the power and protection, a warrior of worlds. In this, they created Male and Female.

As the gods schemed in their eternal greed, they chose to make their creation a game, no more than mere pawns for their enjoyment. As punishment, they scattered the beings among the humans of earth, both halves separated and eternally locked in hunger and longing for the love of their shared soul.

The female half was the holder of their life, the emotion and beauty of the soul. In her, she protected this delicate power, never abusing its energy and forever giving to the earth and nature. Despite her possessions, she was lonely and lost in love, weak, sad, and alone.

The male half, the powerful half, was left lifeless and drained of the energy only the soul could give him. In the male’s life on earth, he searched for his strength, the female, and the power he could ultimately gain from it. Their lethal lust for that soul was so great, that it drove them into madness, anger, and despair.

Upon meeting their soul mate, the male half was found hungry, and vicious, murdering their other half in their greed, and ultimately leading to their demise. But despite their vicious love, many survived long enough to understand their power, and in finding each other, they unlocked the secret to their lives.

Together, the two halves created a whole, a life force greater and more powerful than anything on earth. Though eternally tormented by jealously and hunger, they were better together than apart, the ultimate test of eternal love.

A NEW DAY

“Estella, take this.” Heidi thrust a thick envelope toward me as a sad tear grew in her eye, her hand trembling and weak as it floated in the air between us.

I looked at the envelope with caution. “Oh no,” I shook my head, my face contorted into a sad frown, “Heidi no, I couldn’t.” I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to accept the gift.

“Please Estella,” she paused, her voice now choking in her throat, “I just want to see you happy. I am old and tired, my life is ending and yours is just beginning.” She walked toward me with a stern look on her face, the envelope still held out in front of her in her stubborn stand. Her eyes scanned mine in frantic waves and I could see she loved me like her own.

I grabbed the small manila package between my trembling fingers, treating it with delicate care. The contents were beyond what I could ever deserve, but the needs in Heidi’s eyes were deep, and I found myself unable to say no.

“Thank you,” I looked at the ground as the familiar sadness stung at my heart.

Heidi leaned in and hugged me, her small arms squeezing the breath from my lungs. “I’m sorry I couldn’t have been more of a mother to you,” she whispered, her breath hot as it fell across my ear.

She was crying now, and I felt the tears seeping into the shoulder of my blouse.

“Heidi, you are the closest thing to a mother I’ve ever known, don’t think any less.” I put my arm around her frail shoulders as she trembled into my chest, the guilt in me rising as I forced back my desire to stay, to save her from her lonely life.

She pulled away, a strong look now flooding her tear stained face, “You go, make me proud,” her eyes seeped bravery, “and find your happiness.” She patted both of my shoulders with surprising strength as her long nails dug into my skin with a sting of pain.

“I promise, I will come back soon,” I tried to smile as I dropped to pick up my last bag, but nothing came.

Heidi followed me to the car in her housecoat and slippers as I threw the last bag in the back seat of the old rusty green Datsun. I was finally able to afford the car after my summer working at the Market downtown. I did everything I could to scrape enough money together, to make my escape from the city.

Heidi’s eyes had dried and I looked at her with nostalgic love and admiration as I climbed in. The old vinyl seats yawned against my sweaty skin and I winced at their searing heat. I squeaked the door shut, slamming it with as much force as I could muster before putting my hands on the plastic wood grain steering wheel. She waved to me with hopeless vigor as I coaxed the vehicle to life and forced it into reverse.

“I will visit soon!” I yelled from the window as I drove off, “The college is not too far.”

Heidi took a sad and tired step forward as she made a final attempt to wave goodbye. I would miss her as my foster mother, but this was my time to make something of my sad life. The upbringing she had given me was all I could have hoped for, but something inside me was driving me away, pushing me to another place.

As I drove down the crowded streets, the shadows cast by the towering buildings of downtown Seattle always left me somewhat disappointed. The tiny house where I had been placed when I was ten glared at me as it disappeared between the apartment complexes of the west side in my rearview.

I took a deep breath, exhaling with a labored heart. I had decided the city was not for me. After years of adoption and rejection I couldn’t stand its cold cement and moist dirty air any longer. Why the city had let me down I was unsure, but as the depression in me grew deeper as the years passed, it had become a sort of cancer. There was death here, and everyone took their happiness for granted. I would have given anything to feel a smile, to muster out a happy laugh.

I rolled my windows up, closing out this world as I headed north toward the Cascades. As the hills of Seattle whizzed by, each growing less crowded with houses, I felt a sort of liberation. The stern grip I’d had on the steering wheel slowly released and soon I was casually driving with one hand. My lonely life had never granted me the experience that was ahead of me, the chance to be with nature as my heart had so longed.

The college brochure had promised a tranquil and secluded experience and that was just the thing I was hoping my dark heart needed. College had always been a goal for me, and despite my graduation from high school, with a bachelor’s degree that I had earned taking night courses, it still didn’t satisfy my insatiable need to learn.

As the sun finally released onto the calm valleys of northern Puget Sound, the density of forest began to creep ever closer to the road and I felt a strange pull from the plants that sat there, each bowing toward the concrete as though a wall between it and the other side of life, much like my mind. I envied their freedom, their simple happiness and ability to adapt. I on the other hand, had never belonged, and despite how hard I tried, I always stood out. The world hopelessly saddened me, as though somewhere in my past life, it had let me down, my soul now darkened by my evil existence.

I reached into my bag, retrieving my bottle of medication and popping one pill in my mouth as I habitually did every day for the last twelve years. Each clouded thought further stifled by the power of Prozac. I allowed myself a second to close my eyes as I once again opened my windows, releasing the seal as the wind whipped through my angelically white hair. As the sun touched my pale skin, it felt warm and soothing like a bath of heavenly light. Opening my eyes, I felt discouraged that even a moment like this could not muster a smile.

Even as a baby I had never laughed, never let out even so much as a delighted coo. Smiling was something I did because I had to in order to fit in. I learned what was funny from my peers, and practiced for hours in front of the mirror, my facial muscles stretching with pain in a way that came so naturally to everyone else. Tears never came either, though I knew what I had was sadness, I never felt that was the true definition of the feeling either. It was as though someone had ripped my soul out, leaving me helpless and empty.

I thought about all my adoptive parents and how many times each tried to create a happy life for me, how relentlessly they urged me into activities designed to muster a laugh, though one never came. It was an inevitable truth that each failed as they rejected me back to the social workers, apologizing for their failure as  parents. After a while, I gave up and moved in with Heidi and her other foster kids for what I planned to be forever. I was like a poisonous berry, beautiful on the outside, damaged and sick on the inside.

I exhaled from deep within my charred soul as I finally reached the town of Sedro-Woolly where I turned onto highway twenty, heading east into the North Cascades. The small town of Sedro-Woolly was far north, close to Canada and the San Juan islands and just far enough from Seattle to leave it all behind. The town was the gateway to my future, and a new life.

As I headed into the wilderness, the trees that edged the roadside seemed to welcome my presence as the branches swayed in the light wind. The air seemed magical, and I saw the glimmer of bugs flying between thick rays of light like fairies in the trees. With my windows opened, the gentle clamoring of water casually whispered in my ear as I passed spring after spring, cascading down the granite rocks and into the roadside reservoirs.

The mountains closed in around me like a blanket, casting deep shadows on the road, but not the same depressing shadows I had grown up around in the city. These shadows revealed a whole other world beyond the dirty streets and sadness, a world of soulful life. For the first time, I felt a soft warmth flicker in my charred soul and I gasped, the feeling ripping the breath from my lungs.

Rounding the corner with caution, the trees parted in a dramatic wave and the sun poured into the car. The river that had followed the road burst open into a large lake that was choked back by a small dam. The water sparkled cleaner than I’d ever seen in Puget Sound and the glimmer made my eyes water. The air that poured into the car was crisp and moist from the glacial waters and I breathed deep, allowing it to heal my polluted lungs.

I stared in disbelief, wondering how I’d let this whole world hide from me for so long. As I followed the lake, I kept glancing toward it, feeling that it would disappear as fast as it had come. I blinked hard a few times, my mind wondering if this was just a twisted dream, a taunting memory set up to cause even more pain.

Like a meandering stream, the road wound to the right and I crossed over the lake on a delicate bridge. I felt a rush of something cold enter my body as though the water were pulsing through me, becoming a part of my blood and filling every vein. I allowed the feeling to control my thoughts, and I imagined a tidal wave washing through my scarred mind, cooling each itching gash.

With a sudden pulse, just when I thought I couldn’t have seen anything any more gorgeous, the lake further expanded and an even larger dam loomed before me, grand in its amazing power. I took in the complex construction and it amazed me to believe that as a human race, we could create something so powerful. I could see the college now, nestled into the hillside on the other side of the dam, I was almost there, almost free.

As I turned from the main road toward the complex, I slowed as my car rolled onto the cobblestone blocks. The gentle vibration was calming as the cobbles shuddered under my weight. The college had utilized this dam as the crossing to the school and a part of me felt like it was a bridge to my fairytale castle.

To my left was the drop to the lake that I had drove along on my way up and as I peered over the ledge, my head felt the gripping vertigo as my eyes focused on the rocks below. To my right, the water brimmed against the wall, swirling in its attempt to escape, the churning water anxious and foamy. The lake itself was a milky crystal blue and sharp rocky peaks surrounded it as they reached into the even bluer sky. The unique coloration was unbelievable and I recognized it to be Diablo Lake, where the College sat along the waters ledge.

As I neared the other side of the bridge, I noticed a gorged waterfall drop like a graceful veil from a far peak and into the lake on its final decent. Its raw power humbled me as I watched in silence as it misted the air around it, rainbows flashing in its wake. As the wild wind whipped toward me across the water, I noticed a sort of untamed beauty that felt so normal to me.

I closed my eyes and held my breath as I saw the gust of wind tickle the small waves of the lake on its approach toward me. As it finally fell through the window of my car, I found it to be wet and cool as it wrapped through my long hair, beckoning it to dance. My body shivered from the cooling touch and my arms erupted with sudden goose bumps.

When I reached the other side of the bridge I released my breath, my body heavy and grounded as my car rolled onto the gravel drive, the water no longer flowing below me like a force of energy greater then I could control. I circled Diablo Lake and just a few hundred feet farther east, the road became even rougher as my tires struggled to find their grip. I drove with caution up the hill toward the front of the small cluster of buildings, my curious mind now beginning to rumble.

An anonymous donor had created the Cascades College a few years back. Its purpose was to provide a Masters in Environmental Studies through hands on experience and practice. There were also primary classes but mainly it was a place to get your hands dirty and experience the real world, in its truest sense.

When I had learned about the College I had remembered that it was the first time I’d felt my heart truly beat. Something about its design, location, and description felt more like home than anywhere I had ever been. I needed to be close to the earth, close to the place where life began.

I was never the nature lover type, but my choice to come here had been purely selfish. Ever since I could remember, I possessed a strange talent for growing plants, a green thumb if you may. But my talent did not simply involve using the right fertilizers, and making sure to water. My talents seemed to involve something much more magical and indescribable, something I was here to figure out.

I turned my car off with a heavy sigh as I sat in front of the main learning center, the large ‘Welcome’ sign looming over me. I felt the flicker beat again in my heart and it again ripped the breath from my lungs. Taking in the small modern buildings, I began to wonder if this was still just a dream, just a figment left by my heavily sedated mind.

A tall thin red headed man seemed startled by my abrupt arrival as he jumped from a bench by the office doors and ran toward my parked car with a smile plastered across his face. He couldn’t have been much older than I, but instantly seemed to act years younger. He was bounding down the hill, his legs becoming perilously tangled as he tripped with inherent clumsiness, regaining his composure in an embarrassed but well rehearsed manner before continuing toward me. He was wearing a green plaid short-sleeved shirt and your run-of-the-mill pair of hiking shorts and Columbia boots.

He breathed hard as he placed both of his hands on the window and knelt down to my eye level, locking his gaze on mine. “New arrival?” he asked, his voice full of carefree delight.

I looked at him with nervous eyes as fear gripped my stomach. “Yes,” I managed to squeak.

His eyes were a light blue like mine but full of life and happiness. “Great,” he paused, sticking his hand out toward me through my window, “I’m Scott.”

I stared at his hand for a moment, allowing my shock to subside to comprehension. Finally, I deduced that Scott was harmless and I grabbed his hand between two fingers and gave it a soft shake.

Scott yanked it back just as quickly as he had thrust it forward, unfazed by my reluctant personality, “Well, it sure is great to meet you. Would you like some help with your things?”

He opened my car door and I cringed as it shuddered and scraped, rust falling to the ground. “Um…” I was processing the information as quick as I could, “Sure. That would be great.” I pulled myself out of the seat. “Thanks,” I added, smiling as well as I could.

He stood there with his hands on his hips, looking like a dog ready to be thrown a bone. “So what’s your name?” As soon as I was out of the way he jumped forward, lunging into my backseat and loading his pale scrawny arms with my three somewhat small bags, the makings of my whole life.

“I uh…” I stuttered as I grabbed my throat, begging it to stop. “My name is Estella.” I finally managed to gather my thoughts as the time caught up around me. My medications always caused me to think slow, like fighting a fog of information that was always clouding my reflexes.

“Alright Estella,” he grabbed a sheet from his pocket, maneuvering his full arms and struggling to bring it to his face, “Looks like you got your own cabin.” His eyes got wide with excitement as though the cabin was his own.

I nodded in agreement. I had worked a few extra shifts at the fish counter of the Market to make that possible. I wasn’t about to bunk up in a group dormitory again, not like I had for a good bulk of my life at the orphanage.

“Well then,” he smiled with a sweet glow as he urged me forward, “Follow me.”

“Thanks,” I grabbed my shoulder bag from the passenger seat and rushed to keep up.

“So, Estella…”

“Oh you can call me Elle,” I quickly corrected him.

He looked back at me as I followed behind him, “Ok then Elle, what brings you here?”

I looked at him sideways, what else would I be here for? “For the Master’s course,” I said ruefully.

“Oh really!” he looked back at me again, this time analyzing my face more closely. “Aren’t you a bit young for a Masters?”

I shrugged, watching my feet as they struggled to stay on pace, nerves again gathering in my stomach. “I got my degree while I was young.”

“Really?” he sounded shocked.

“Well,” I felt embarrassed and my cheeks began to flush, “It’s just that, it came so naturally.” I paused, breathing hard as we passed under a large pine that left a thick bed of needles on the ground, “It wasn’t very difficult for me. I had a lot of time on my hands.”

The fact that I never had friends made me result to anything that could pass my time and mostly that was homework and studying. I was a first class nerd and social reject. Even when I did try to make friends, my awkward existence eventually scared them off. I knew that at some point, Scott would come to learn this as well.

His eyes smiled at me, “Then I am impressed. I’m in that program too, but I’m not quite as young as you, I’m twenty-one. I kept pretty much on pace with things through High School.”  He watched me with curiosity, “I suppose we’ll have the same classes. There aren’t many people here.”

I nodded, thinking about the fact that that was how I’d wanted it, quiet and secluded. As we rounded the path, I finally spotted a small cabin perched on the hill.

“So, that will be yours,” he announced. We approached fast, climbing onto the porch as our boots echoed beneath us. He threw down a bag to open the door and I noticed there was no lock. “I will just set your bags here in the corner. Does that work?”

I nodded again, “Yeah, thanks Scott.”

He thrust his hand toward me again, still the same energetic spark to his face, “Well, good to meet you Elle.” He still didn’t seem fazed by my standoffish behavior. “I guess I will see you tomorrow in class?”

I shook his hand and tried to give him another smile, though I was never able to succeed in getting the happy notion across. “Yeah, I guess I will. Thanks again.”

I shut the door behind him as he bounded down the hill with the same awkward lumber as before. As I looked around the small square cabin I was pleased to see there was a lot more then I’d first imagined. I had my own bathroom, small shower, and a tiny kitchenette with a small fridge. My bed was a full size, bigger than I’d ever had and I began to feel somewhat spoiled.

I reached in my bag and grabbed out the thick envelope Heidi had given me and I slid it in the crack where the fridge met the cabinet, thinking I’d save it for an emergency. I circled the inside perimeter of the cabin, placing one foot before the other, inspecting every square inch of my investment and opening the blinds as I went so to let the light in.

After deciding everything was in order, I sat on my bed and pulled one of my bags toward me. From inside I grabbed out a small stack of moleskin journals and placed them on the shelf above my bed. I had began documenting my life the day I was able to write, it soothed me to be able to get it out, keep my soul open for happiness to come in, though it never did.

Deep in the bag, I found the framed note from my real mother. It was the only thing I had from her. The beautiful script and rough edges played at my emotions and every day I read it in anticipation,

Estella,

You are beautiful, and it pains me to leave but some day you will find the beauty you seek living inside your darkest soul. You are safe now.

The poetic words puzzled and saddened me. I had searched for her when I was younger but found nothing about her or where she’d gone or even if she was dead or alive, and my soul remained black.

Placing it on the wood side table, I glanced back to my bag where I reached in and pulled a small tattered brown box from its depths, treating it with extreme care and delicacy. Opening it as though something may fall out, I retrieved a small pot containing a petite purple plant that was sleeping inside. Grasping it with two hands, I set the Purple Clover on the sill and touched its butterfly leaves as it reacted to the light and stretched its petals toward the sun like an opening umbrella. I had decided to take just one tubular with me from my vast garden in Seattle, just one child to start a new life with.

After unpacking the few clothes I’d had, and leaving some in the bag out of laziness, I finally laid on my bed, letting my platinum hair fan out around me. After a moment of silence, I pulled myself back up where I reached in my bag, grabbed my book, and leaned back into my pillow where I began to read as the darkness of the night crept in around the cabin. Soon, only the small light of the single lamp shown across the lonesome room, the sharp contrasts eerie against the walls of the unfamiliar place.

The hours had passed faster than I’d expected as I glanced away from the page to the windows. The blackness there was infinite and my heart began to race as I allowed the world of my book to fall away from me. I pulled my head off the pillow and sat up, throwing my legs to the floor where I stood. As I approached the cool pane I was shocked to see only a few faint lights glimmer from the compound that surrounded me. I had never seen or felt something like it in my life, darkness and quiet, all at once. I leaned toward my lamp and switched it off, allowing the lights outside to magnify.

I crept to my door where I placed my hand on the cool brass handle and opened the door, walking in slow quiet steps onto the small deck, not wanting to disturb nature’s slumber. I clenched my eyes shut as tight as I could as I tilted my head to the sky, allowing myself the suspense of what I would surely find there. As I opened them, I gasped as the tiny diamonds that littered the sky sparkled greater then I’d ever seen and in far vaster numbers than I could imagine.

I had read about the stars, seen images and studied their matter but never would I have expected the expanse that welcomed me now. The city lights of Seattle and the almost constant thick shroud of clouds made star watching nonexistent.

My body was full of sudden weight and I began to feel dizzy as the strength from the star’s mass caused my heart to race. A light breeze whipped around my cabin, twisting my hair around my shoulders and it felt like the breath of God. I could smell the pines and the sage tickle my nose and a feeling I had never felt crept through my limbs.

For a moment I couldn’t help but feel I may at last smile, but the wind subsided and my dark soul remained empty. As the stars twinkled ever stronger, I realized I was getting close. There was something out here I needed to see, something I was meant to do, but what that was, for now, would continue to elude me.

FEAR

The sun streamed through the blinds as I woke to the quiet. My restless sleep left me groggy and clouded as I reached in the bedside table for my medication. Putting one hand to my head as it began to ache, I felt suddenly nauseated. I hadn’t expected the dead silence of the night when I was so used to the rumble of the city. Eventually, I knew I would grow to love it, but the transition period was a little rocky.

I urged my lethargic body to sit up as I scanned the cabin, realizing nothing had changed from the night before. I threw one pill in my mouth in one mechanical movement and forced it down my dry throat. Rubbing my eyes, the cloudiness began to fade and I was finally able to throw myself out from under the covers and place my feet on the cold wood floor where I worked to gain my balance.

Staggering to the bathroom as I grabbed a ruffled pile of clothes, I closed myself within and splashed a handful of cool water on my face. Outside the small window, the chirping of birds was deafening but sweet and I stood on my toes to peer through the dusty glass. Down the hill I spotted the cafeteria building and my stomach rumbled at the thought of food. I hadn’t eaten dinner due to my dumbfounded amazement with the night sky and I knew that it would be best to at least attempt a piece of toast.

As I slid on my jeans, struggling to force my tired legs through each pant leg, a sudden sharp knocking rapped against the front door of the cabin. I jumped in fear, my body going rigid with shock. I looked around as I scanned the mess I had made unpacking; half hoping I had just imagined the sound. To my regret, there was another sharp knock, this time even louder and more obnoxious. I dove to the floor where I threw my shirt over my head, catching the hem on my ears as I ripped it on and stumbled through the bathroom door, nearly crawling my way to the front door.

I grabbed the handle for balance as I flew it open, the sudden burst of light blinding me. I struggled to focus my eyes, shielding them with my hand as my gaze finally landed on my visitor. I wasn’t surprised to see Scott standing like an awkward idiot before me, smiling in the same eccentric fashion he had yesterday.

“Well hey there Elle.” He paused as he looked at my rumpled clothing, “I didn’t wake you did I?”

I was still stunned from the sudden burst of light so I just shook my head in defiance. My lips pursed and annoyed.

Scott’s smile ceased to falter. “I was just going to go get some food before class,” he pointed down the hill toward the other building. “Just thought since you were new, you’d like to have a guide.” He shrugged.

I swallowed hard, still too tired to attempt an empty smile. “Sure,” I said in a flat voice, cursing myself for my lack of confidence, “I’m starving.” My face was in shock, people usually tended to avoid me, but not Scott.

I pulled my long hair the rest of the way out of my shirt as I grabbed my bag. Giving the cabin one last scan, I gingerly shut the door behind me. Grasping my boots from the deck, I sat on the ledge to pull them on as Scott stood on the path, whistling to himself and looking up into the branches of a large evergreen that shaded the path. I couldn’t quite understand him. He was so unfazed, so unobservant of my awkward existence.

I finally stood, smoothing my navy thermal shirt over my jeans and collecting my thoughts. Taking a deep breath, I mustered what courage I had and walked off the deck and toward Scott.

“Ok,” I paused a few feet from him and his attention fell to me, “I’m ready.”

Scott smiled again, “Perfect.” He summoned me forward, “You’re going to love the food here, I promise.” He attempted a wink but instead it ended up looking like a twitch.

We hiked down the hill and I took in my new surroundings. There were five buildings in my view and I noted each carefully, eager to find my place here. The structures looked modern and clean, built into their surroundings in such a way that hardly any dirt had been disturbed. The massive beam frames looked far stronger than necessary, and the windows were at least an inch thick. I knew the winters here were long and harsh and the snow pack so great that most of the trees, even now in late summer, were still bowing from the painful weight forced onto their limbs.

Scott noticed the curious look on my face and took it upon himself to elaborate, “That over there is the bird and wildlife lab,” he pointed to the far left toward the bottom of the hill, “That will be our second class today.”

“Birds?” I asked, puzzled.

“Yeah,” he choked, “they really are an integral part of the ecosystem here.” He looked at me with wide convincing eyes. “And down over there,” he pointed to the right, “That is the greenhouse.”

My eyes became wide with interest, “That’s more like what I’m into.”

Scott watched me with an amplified look of content to his face, “And over in that cluster is the astrological lab, the water lab, and the hatchery.”

I nodded in comprehension. Despite the fact that I was nervous around people, I was thankful to have Scott, even if I was uncomfortable being this conversational. I had never managed to keep friends, or even really make them to begin with. My soul was too depressing to be around and most people mistook my silence for cockiness. I had always thought I was at least reasonably attractive, with my crystal blue eyes and smooth porcelain skin, but looks aren’t everything and people still looked at me like I was a monster.

The gravel below our feet crunched as we arrived at the cafeteria. The front entrance was gated on both sides by two large timbers and the walls were mostly glass, allowing the light to bleed into the space. My skin glowed milky white in contrast to the other students and visitors filling the hall. They had obviously spent most of their lives outdoors where I was always shielded in the city shade, a prisoner of my own mind.

We walked to the counter and I grabbed a plate. There were droves of fresh berries and grainy breads and what I deduced to be tubs and tubs of granola. I cringed at the sight. I hated granola more than anything, the needless chewing and tasteless texture frightened me. Settling for a soft bran muffin, I grabbed it from the basket and placed it on my plate and then watched wide-eyed as Scott piled his plate high with berries and tofu scrambled eggs.

“I can’t get enough of this stuff.” Scott mounded another scoop of eggs on an already dangerously teetering stack and then grabbed for his silverware.

I followed him to a table in the far corner where the sun warmed my back as I sat. “So what made you come here?” I asked, watching him with acute curiosity as I tried my best to be social.

Scott looked at me over his glasses with a mouth full of blueberries, his teeth grossly stained. “My mother is an environmental researcher,” he paused, wiping juice from his chin as it dribbled from his gaping mouth, “She’s out in the woods of Alaska right now but she will be back in about six months. She was always my source of inspiration.”

I nodded as I picked at my muffin, my appetite somewhat depleted, “That’s nice.” I felt my insides sink at the thought of having a mother.

Scott swallowed a load of eggs, “So what’s your story? You seem like you’ve got a heavy mind.” He was analyzing my sadness like a Petri dish.

I thought for a moment, finding the right words to say that wouldn’t cause him to turn and run. “Well,” I flicked a sugar crystal off the table, “I was an orphan.” I watched his face for some sort of reaction but one never came. “And I’ve always had this thing with plants, with nature,” I blurted.

He looked at me surprised, only a slight twinge of confusion on his face, “What thing is that? Like an Affair?” He gave me a smug confident smile, something I didn’t think he could posses.

I faked a grin and rolled my eyes, finding his version of sarcasm a little sadistic. “No not like that,” I tore at my napkin, “like a mother thing. The plants…” I paused, trying to see how I could explain without sounding like a complete nut bag, “they love me. They react to me even when I don’t take care of them at all. No matter what, they still flourish under my care.” I held my breath after I said it. It had always been a strange talent of mine and certainly not something a normal girl could do.

He looked at me and I could see he hadn’t gotten it, “Mother nature then right?” He let out a small chuckle.

I rolled my eyes and released the breath from my lungs in relief.

“So then you’re a tree hugger,” he said as a matter of fact, looking at me as though it were a typical occurrence. “We’ve got two types here, animal activists and tree huggers.” He chewed as he pointed at me with his fork, “And you’re a tree hugger.”

I lowered my gaze, feeling somewhat hurt and very annoyed. I was no hippy, which was for sure. I had never been an obsessed recycler or taken to eating granola, yogurt, and tofu. I knew that what I had was a different passion, a real passion, not a means to fit in.

Scott noticed my pained expression, “Oh, sorry.” He looked concerned, “I didn’t really mean to offend you,” he let out a nervous laugh in his attempt to erase his prior remark.

I looked up at him, “Oh no Scott, don’t worry you didn’t.” I felt bad for him, he was really trying, “I don’t really have feelings, well at least no feelings other than pain, so don’t feel bad.”

Again, he gave me the same dense confused stare and I could see that he and I were going to make great friends. He didn’t seem to understand me, and that was good.

“Well good.” A bubbly smile was again plastered to his freckled face, his glasses smeared with blueberry juice where he had grabbed the rim to readjust them onto his thin nose.

He finished his whole plate as I stuffed the muffin in my bag for later, feeling an acute loss of appetite after the depressing conversation and also the fact that I had to watch him eat. Scott grabbed my plate as he stood, throwing them with expert aim into a nearby tub as we left the building.

“So, looks like we’re off to the hatchery,” he looked at me as excitement filled his eyes. “That’s my favorite class,” he whispered, as though there were anyone around to even care.

It was a sunny day, the weather of summer just turning into fall, yet still somewhat warm. I followed him down the hill to the crystal blue lake as he half skipped in front of me. The building was old and water stained like an antique boathouse and it was the full length of the dock, about eighty feet long. Once inside, I noticed how its shape reflected its function. To the front was a long segmented tank that spread down the side of half the room, each filled with a dozen fish, divided based on their age and relative size.

Scott ran like a child to the ledge of the tank and looked deep within, “Hey Elle, come see.”

I approached the tank in short wary footsteps, I’d never really cared for fish, especially live ones. Anytime I got in any lakes or oceans they would nibble at my feet as though I where I giant chunk of floating wonder bread.

I peered deep into the multifaceted turquoise water, the pearl green scales of the fish glittering like dark clouds as they twisted their way around their bleak confines.

“Hey look!”  Scott pointed to the fish now circling in anxious rings in front of me. “He likes you.”

I sighed, looking down at the struggling fish as it tried all it could to get closer to me, in any way possible. I felt sorry for the poor thing, a runt, stuck in a glass box for the rest of its life. With reluctant will, I raised my trembling hand where I let it hover above the water in my rippled reflection. I watched as the trout swam at the shadow, following the shelter I was creating for it as my hand swirled above the water.

Scott watched in amazement and I noticed his shocked expression out of the corner of my eye. Ashamed that he had seen what I’d done, I slammed my hand back into my pockets, feeling my pale skin blush to a dramatic red.

“How did you do that?” Scott came to my side, watching the once anxious fish now swim with tranquility, still as close to me as possible. “He was like, following you.”

I shrugged, “That’s what I was saying. They love me.” I felt like a freak and I was waiting for him to blow me off, call me a weirdo and never talk to me again.

“Well,” he gave me a stupid grin. “Then I guess they do,” he shrugged.

I stared at him in disbelief. How Scott had made it this far in life amazed me. His dense demeanor and oblivious personality would never survive in the city; he’d be eaten alive. As I tried to calm my nerves, the room filled with students, each eyeing me with curiosity and disapproval and I shrank to the back. A few minutes later, a frumpy, frizzle haired professor entered the room and began to preach before everyone was even settled, her voice lisping like a drowning snake.

“The fish are our friends,” she droned with passionate respect, and I could tell this was going to be a long hour.

I watched Scott as he stared in obedience toward the front, alert in his love for marine life. Soon, my eyes wandered to the other students. People of all ages filled the room, each plainer than the next. I felt like I had a giant arrow pointing directly at me, the one thing that didn’t belong, but then again, when had I ever belonged? My blonde hair stood stark against the muddy colors of the people around me, and at one point, I noticed the teacher could barely stop staring at me, an almost entranced look on her face.

At the end of class, Scott turned to me with elated and glossed over eyes, “That was amazing,” he gasped, throwing his bag over his shoulder. His happiness bled from him like a deep open wound and I longed to know how that felt.

I watched him as a pathetic lump grew in my throat, not wanting to ruin the moment for him, “Yeah, sure was.” My voice was sarcastic but there was nothing I could do to help it and I hoped he hadn’t noticed my unconvincing attitude. Luckily he hadn’t.

“Well Elle, time for the birds,” he gave a playful nudge, “We’ll get to plants soon though, don’t worry.” He winked at me and grabbed my arm as he led me out the door and back to the gravel path.

We walked in silence to the bird and wildlife lab as I began to doubt my presence here, surely no one would take me seriously. Scott wasn’t absorbing the fact that my strange abilities weren’t just with plants, it was with everything in nature. I just tended toward plants because the extraordinary pull I had for them was safe. With animals, you never knew what was going to come at you, bulldogs were the worst, not that they wanted to hurt me, but the drool was gross.

Scott pulled the heavy door of the lab open and we walked into the stark white classroom. Students were socializing as they roamed from table to table in casual circles. I followed Scott to a station toward the back and we settled onto the tall stools. I analyzed his face as he sat poised on the stool like a kid fresh from etiquette school and I wondered why he hadn’t had more friends.

Looking around the room, I noticed that all the windows had grids and I assumed it was to prevent the birds from flying into them. To the far left was a large aquarium-like enclosure that stretched from the floor to the ceiling and inside I saw a slow squirrel moving amongst the branches of its confined habitat like an old man. There were six rows of desk stations, all big enough to hold two to four students. The room felt sterile, like a doctor’s office, but I liked it.

Even though the overall space was bright and refreshing, it still did nothing to boost my sullen mood. After a few moments of idle chatter, the students began to settle, taking their seats in a routine manner as a door toward the front of the room creaked open, the handle slamming against the wall before bouncing back.

I looked around with wondering eyes at all the students, all as still as statues and as quiet as death as though frozen in time. I looked to Scott for an explanation as fear and confusion began to fill my mind.

He gave me a nervous glare as he folded his hands politely before him, “Professor Edgar is very strict,” he hissed between clenched teeth, “You’ve got to remain as still as possible, as alert as you can be, or…” he paused as the clumping sound of heavy footsteps entered the room.

My eyes widened in terror as the door to the front of the classroom slammed close and a tall figure took the stage with a large hawk poised on his strong arm. What shocked me most was the professor’s youth and I deduced that he must not be any older than twenty, possibly even younger. His face and eyes were like ice behind his tinted glasses and large lab coat. I shook my head as a sudden fog filled my mind, and I felt a flurry of anxiety grip at my chest. My heart rate quickened as though my life was being threatened and I struggled to remain calm, focusing on his face instead.

The professor’s youthful skin was radiant and unflawed. He had a prominent chin and thick eyebrows that framed his strong face well. The glasses he wore shielded his eyes, making it hard to tell the exact spot to which he was looking. The pitch black of his hair contrasted beautifully with his pale skin and for the first time, I felt I wasn’t the only one that stood out.

My heart rate remained elevated and the flutter in my chest began to sting with a sharp unbearable twang. I started to wince as I struggled to control the pain, my head now ripping open in agony. Something was attacking me and it felt as though they were drawing the very life from my bones and I found myself now struggling to remain calm.

Scott noticed my trembling as he eyed me with a tense look, hoping I wouldn’t attract any attention. I shot him a worried glare as I struggled to take deep breaths but my lungs began to seize, causing my cheeks to flush as a sudden rush of blood streamed straight to my head.

“Class,” the professor boomed. I wasn’t sure if the professor had even noticed me, but I prayed he wouldn’t. “The red hawk is a fierce predator.”

I noticed the squirrel in the tank leap from its branch and scurry into a small house in the far corner as beads of sweat gathered on my forehead.

The professor froze as though his shoes were suddenly full of lead, scanning the class with his dark eyes which seemed to take on a new, almost ominous glimmer. His mouth was pursed into an angry line and his nostrils were flared. The hawk sat steady on his arm, unfazed by his carrier’s sudden mental disruption. As his eyes landed on each student, I saw them squirm on their stools, each praying the following words were not directed toward them.

I was stifling my heavy breaths as his eyes met mine and halted, remaining on me as he took one singular step forward and then stopped. My whole body went weak as though I were no more than a puppet, my limbs tingling as though someone was forcing sand into my veins. Placing my hands on the table to prevent myself from fainting, the world around me seemed to slowly dissipate as I felt something inside him pulling me closer.

His eyes were burning even darker now, mesmerizing me with terror and I prayed that it would stop, begged for anything to interrupt this painful and silent attack. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t look away from his perfect face, his gaze becoming harder to handle as I began to sweat more profusely. It felt like an eternity had already passed as we stared at each other, my mind turning to a stormy dark. His brows furled even deeper, the lines on his face now cutting into his angelic white skin, making him seem years older. A student bravely adjusted his stool as it scratched across the floor and the professor broke his stare, his face somehow lost. I softly gasped for air and the world around me returned in a rush of warmth and I rubbed my neck as though I had been choked, finding it sore as though it had really happened.

“Elle,” Scott whispered, his voice frantic and scared. “Are you ok?” His throat sounded dry and his voice was cracking.

“Yeah,” I took a few heavy breaths, regaining what composure I could and summoning a courage I had never known.

The professor staggered to his desk, looking away from the curious class to hide his faltering expression. His body language looked as though, like me, he was having trouble regaining his composure. I watched with observance as he leaned one strong arm against the mahogany desk, the hawk continuing to sit steady, unchanged in his composure to the class. After a brief moment of reprieve, the professor turned back and the stinging in my chest subsided. As his gaze fell on mine I noticed that his eyes were now serene, and calm, void of the murderous black of before as though now a whole new person.

“Class,” he started again, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, “This hawk has been injured.” He motioned one shaking hand toward the hawk.

I struggled to understand what had just happened as everyone looked toward the professor, confused. Why had we both reacted so strongly toward each other?

“Our lesson today,” he continued, “will be in the preservation and health of this creature.”

He began to make his way down the aisle and my heart rate quickened. As he grew closer, I noticed his gate was far too smooth and sophisticated for his age, but there was something there that suggested otherwise. His nose was in the air as though from another time completely and the way he carried himself exuded ages of perfection.

“He has a broken wing,” he continued, now glaring at me with shameless authority, his dark eyes still hiding the exact point of his gaze.

As he approached our table, I felt my breathing become very shallow and the aggression in his eyes blazed as my already fair skin turned even whiter.

“And your name is?” He finally halted in front of me.

My palms spread across the table as I tried to remain calm, holding my breath in utter shock. His eyes beckoned for me to look into them, and even behind the tinted lenses, they seemed to glow.

I stuttered nervously, “El…” my voice was hoarse and low, “Estella.”

I saw his eyes react to my name as I said it, flashing what had appeared to be a bright blue. He stood there quite still for a moment and I noticed the students around me staring with looks of grave pity and vindictive interest, all relieved to not be where I sat.

“Estella,” he repeated. A smile curled across his face and his voice was like honey as he breathed my name.

A strange part of me still felt a pull toward him, his almost floral scent wafting toward me and tickling my nose. Despite the fact that he was the creepiest person I had ever encountered, there was a dull sense of intrigue and admiration.

“Can you help heal this Hawk?” His eyes blazed a calmer grey as he looked at me, head tilted in contemplation.

I looked at him horrified, if I even so much as touched the bird people would notice there was something strange about me. I knew that my abilities to heal were not normal and far too obvious in a situation like this. The hawk stirred on his arm, its piercing gaze looking at me in a way that seemed like prey.

“I – uh,” I tried to reach out and gather my thoughts through the thick clouds of my mind, “Wh – what should I do?” Fear filled my eyes but no tears would ever come. I felt the hairs on my back raise as the tension in the room shrouded me in terror.

The hawk tilted his sorrowful head at me as though comprehending the words I was saying, mimicking his handler as his talons twitched on the sleeve of the professor’s dark shirt. Without warning, the bird turned its blazing gaze from me to the professor as he too looked toward the bird, as though having a brief conversation over the matter.

I blinked once and they both shot their stare back toward me, my chest once again beginning to sting. I felt myself leaning back on my stool in an attempt to resist his pull, to get as far away from him as possible. The hawk jumped from his arm to the table and the whole class gasped in suspense. I took a few calm breaths, knowing the bird wouldn’t hurt me but my heart was still pounding hard in my chest and I couldn’t help but take a moment to absorb the feeling, a feeling rare to me.

The hawk hopped toward me, its poise never faltering despite its broken wing and assured pain. I felt the bird’s discomfort sting my chest and I winced. As he approached, I could almost hear his thoughts, filling my dark soul with a thin haze.

“Grab its wing,” the professor boomed as he looked down on me, his startling strength and towering height astonishing me inside my fogged comprehension. “Feel the bone so you can share with the class,” he hissed, a crooked smile crossing his smooth young face.

I looked away from him as a wince grew in my throat, my gaze now locked on the warm amber eyes of the hawk. Little by little, I released my grip on the table and raised my trembling hand toward the injured wing. The hawk watched me with confidence, never shying away from my advancing touch. His amber eyes glittered like coins as he looked into my thoughts, finding calm there.

With extreme caution, I lowered my hand onto its powerful wing, stroking my touch over the ridge of his elbow and down the length of his feathers. The bird opened his beak, breathing deep as it relaxed its wing into a full span. The students toward the front of the room stood from their chairs, anxious to get a better view. In slow movements, I again grabbed the bird’s wing, bringing my other hand up to cradle its chest as I felt the bone, finally finding the protrusion halfway down its bicep. Closing my eyes in regret, I felt the bone molding beneath my touch as it healed with shocking speed. My stomach churned as I felt it, my nerves crushing my confidence like a rock. I had never been confronted like this before and I was certain that this absurd incident would grant me my one way ticket back home.

I looked to the professor with sheepish eyes, begging him not to notice. He nodded in approval, his hungry stare locked on my hand as I continued to massage the hawk’s wing, now nearly healed. I jumped as the satisfied hawk clicked its tongue, ruffling the feathers on his back as he jumped away from me and repositioned his wing against his smooth brown body as though no harm had ever been inflicted.

I looked at the professor as he continued to stare at me with a solemn mask. He stood there for a brief moment as the hawk returned to its perch on his arm and its feathers puffed in happiness, both eyes glinting with playful light.

Just as fierce and fast as he had come, the professor spun on his heel and marched back up the aisle. “That will be all today,” he boomed with a threatening pitch to his voice as he exited with haste through the same door he had entered, not another word or explanation said.

My breathing returned as I felt my lungs re-inflate and the fog in my mind cleared. It was all a blur, the way he’d looked at me, the way the hawk had known something about me.

Scott put one hand on my back to support me, “Are you alright?”

His words disappeared like a dissipating cloud as my head felt faint and my eyes rolled back into my head, the room fading to dark.

EDGAR

When I woke I noticed I was in a new building. The ceiling was lined with timbers and the air was cool and dim.

“Oh there you are Miss,” a light British accent coaxed me awake. “You’ll be alright. Just a bit of an anxiety attack I am afraid.” The owner of the voice pressed a cold damp towel to my head as I lay on my back, my head throbbing.

“What happened? Where am I?” I stammered, my memory of the hawk and the professor swimming in my head like an anxious dream.

“Oh don’t worry dear,” she purred, “this happens more than I’d like in Edgar’s lessons.” She chuckled merrily.

I looked at her as my vision cleared, my gaze falling on Scott as he smiled and gave a little awkward wave from a stool in the corner.

“Scott over there brought you in. He was rather frantic at first, said you’d had quite the first experience with Edgar.” She gave me a sweet smile that somehow reminded me of cupcakes and ponies, her chubby cheeks pressing her eyes into a joyful squint.

I sat up, pulling the towel from my head and running my fingers through my long straight hair. “Oh,” I stammered, “Yeah.”

“Will you be alright then Miss?” She put a hand on my back, rubbing it in a gentle circular motion.

I gave her a reassuring look of confidence, “Thank you Miss…”

“Miss Dee.” She interrupted politely.

“Thanks Miss Dee. I’ll be fine.” I swung my legs to the floor where I took my time to stand, still feeling somewhat dizzy but willing to walk it off.

Scott scurried to my side, grabbing one arm and propping me against him. I could see the look in his eyes as my weight leaned on his side and I cringed at the thought of falsely leading him on. I knew there was a reason he was putting up with me, he thought I was cute.

We made our way outside into the sun where Scott turned to lead me to my cabin.

“Oh wait,” I shook my head in defiance, my dead weight halting him on the path, “Scott we should get to class.” I looked at him, alarmed that I’d miss my first day.

Scott gave me a pathetic look, “You’ve been out for a while. Classes are already over.” He looked at me sideways, questioning my true mental stability. “I’m just going to take you to your room, maybe go get you some food.”

I sighed, angry that I’d let myself be so vulnerable. It was bad enough that I was the youngest in my program, now I looked like the weakest too. Halfway up the hill, I strategically shrugged Scott away, letting him know he didn’t have to hold onto me like an infant.

“So,” I looked at him as I took a few of my own faltered steps without using him as a crutch. “What’s the deal with Professor Edgar?”

Scott laughed as he looked at me, “He’s a creep, that’s for sure.” His eyebrows were raised and his voice full of contempt.

I thought about how the Professor’s stare had seemed to burn straight into my chest and how fast my heart had raced as though I were in grave danger. It was strange that though my body reacted as it had, my mind wasn’t as scared as I would have thought. It was like he’d intoxicated me into feeling somewhat safe, like a predator does with its prey.

“He’s been here a while I suppose,” he continued, “But it’s hard to tell just how long, I don’t think people ever really notice him, he’s sort of…”

“Young?” I cut in, my voice sounding somewhat sarcastic.

“Well yeah, he is pretty young.” Scott shrugged, considering the math and becoming further perplexed. “But like I said he’s a very odd character.”

“He can’t be any older than twenty.” I tried to rationalize, but came up empty handed. I still couldn’t get over his beautifully youthful face, “I mean, I guess I’m just eighteen, maybe he became a professor at eighteen too?” I ventured.

“Well, that’s the thing. He’s been here longer than that and at any rate…” he paused as we reached the large evergreen outside the cabin, “I wouldn’t try to dig up too much about him. You saw what happens.” He looked at me as though he somehow knew I wouldn’t let this dead dog lie.

I nodded gravely, the professor’s eyes still floating in my memory.

“So what was it like,” he dropped his gaze to the path, “I mean, what happened? It was so weird.” He looked at me with wide eyes, his body trembling in suspense, “Everyone is sort of curious.”

I crinkled my nose as I thought. “Well,” I tried to fish through my memory but the more I tried to remember, the more I seemed to forget, “I guess I’m not sure.” I wanted to keep it all a secret, at least until I could understand it myself. “I suppose it was an anxiety attack,” I paused to come up with a more believable excuse, “I mean, it’s not like I’m the most socially outgoing of the bunch, doesn’t surprise me that I fainted.”

Scott looked at me with a baffled stare, thankfully buying my theory. He shrugged, “Well,” he gave me an awkward pat on the shoulder, “You go lay down, I’ll go get you some food.”

I nodded as he took off down the hill and I turned and made my way to the porch, taking my boots off and leaving them outside. Entering my cabin, I noticed nothing had changed, the fact that there were no locks on the doors sort of irked me. Exhausted, I went to my bed and snuggled under the covers, pulling them up to my chin and hiding myself away from the world.

My eyes were heavy and the throbbing in my head was excruciating. I closed my eyes to the pain and before I knew it, my mind was heavily shrouded in sleep. In the peaceful blackness of my mind, something suddenly clicked to light, as though someone had lit a candle. The same hazy classroom appeared before me as the smoke of my dream swirled around me. Confused by my surroundings, I looked around for someone to talk to but there were no students and I was all alone, my brow sweating as I stood there lifeless and still.

The stark white counters lay before me and I noticed a feeling of calm shroud my empty heart and I took a few deep breaths. As I exhaled one last breath, something pitch black caught my eye as it hopped between the counters. I jumped, lowering my gaze to floor level as my heart rate again lurched.

My curious mind beckoned me off the stool as I crouched to the ground, coiling into a defensive pose, though curious to see what it was. As I made my way between the rows, carefully scanning each aisle, my heart rate continued to elevate, telling me I was growing closer to whatever was there. As I rounded the corner toward the front, a shrill “caw!” caught me off guard and my gaze snapped to the table at the far right of the room; my body falling hard onto the floor and my eyes wide with horror.

There, standing above me on the counter was a large black raven, its eyes glowing like a midnight blue opal, faceted with light. It stared at me for a long time, its sleek body like stone. I winced as my chest began to sting and I grasped it in agony, no longer trying to hide the pain. The menacing black raven spread its wings and let out another shrill “caw!” as it lunged from the table and straight toward my face. As fast as I could manage through the screaming pain I struggled to shelter my eyes, trying to scream as the lump in my chest choked the voice from my throat.

Still screaming, I woke as Scott ran in the door, dropping a plate of food to the ground and rushing to my side.

“Elle?” his frantic breath fell across my face, his hands shaking my shoulders and beckoning me to calm down. “Elle, you’re all right,” his eyes were wide as I finally looked into them.

I was breathing as though I had just gone running; sweat coating my brow and my throat painfully dry.

“Elle, it’s ok, you’re fine. I think you were just dreaming.” He stared at me for a moment as my breathing calmed, my blankets tangled around me from my vicious thrashing.

“Sorry,” I shuddered, “it was just a nightmare.” The raven’s eyes were still seared in my memory, glowing with power.

“I think you bumped your head pretty hard when you fell from that stool.” He knelt to the floor with haste, picking up the plate and salvaging what food he could and bringing it to me. “Here,” he placed it on my lap, “sorry about that.”

I sat up against the headboard and tried to smile, looking at his pathetic grin as he eyed me with careful diligence.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” he asked. His voice was full of hope and I saw the eagerness in his eyes.

Guilt washed over me, I didn’t like him like that, not even a little. If anything, I pitied him for wanting to be my friend and how depressing that must be for him.

“No,” I chewed on a piece of chicken, “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to take care of me.”

“Are you sure?” I could see he was disappointed, “I wouldn’t mind.” I thought about his mother and how much he’d probably missed taking care of her.

I forced another empty smile, “Yeah I’m sure, and I’ll be fine.” I wasn’t scared by my dream, if anything, just further perplexed and intrigued.

“Ok, well I guess I should go, we have rock club tonight. I’d invite you but, considering your condition I think its better you rest. I’ll fill you in later.” He looked satisfied enough with the task and I nodded in compliance. He stood and walked back through the open door, closing it behind him with a rueful click.

As I picked at the ruined dinner, I thought about the raven in the dream. It didn’t make sense for him to attack me. Animals never attacked me, even the most dangerous. Something about it was frightening, but also familiar.

The professor’s face still sat in my memories as well, the fair complexion and beautiful eyes that had enchanted me so deep within my soul. He was so dark and so utterly mysterious, and his obvious youth was puzzling. It didn’t make sense that he should be so young. Besides his unearthly appearance, there was also something about him that pulled me toward him, beckoned at my heart and a feeling I did not recognize.

I put the plate on the bedside table as I stood and walked to the window, it was dusk and soon the stars would return. I looked toward the bird lab with curiosity, but to my disappointment, everything was dark.

I placed my hand on the handle of the door, my sweaty palms welcoming the cool touch as I twisted it open, revealing myself to the world. I stepped out on the porch, my nerves rattled as I glanced around and into the darkness before finally sitting on the ledge. I sighed, looking to the navy sky and picking out the few first stars as I began to count. Despite my fears, I was secretly thrilled that this had happened; it was finally something worth feeling, something worth discovering.

My gaze fell back on the dark lab like a magnet. I furled my brow in frustration at the mix of emotions swimming in my mind, fear, calm, and confusion. I put my hand to my chest as I tried to feel for my soul, but still, nothing was there. The unfolding events of the day were drama enough, and I was certain that at least the Hawk was grateful for my presence here. It was worth staying, even the thought of returning home made my stomach ache.

I puzzled over what Edgar had thought of the phenomenon, obviously he would know something was strange, he was the professor after all. He had left the room so fast as though the task he had forced me to do had enraged him somehow, or perhaps it was intrigue? Professor Edgar’s air of violence seemed to pierce into the souls of every student except me. My feelings were much more than just that. I attributed the reason for my sudden sense of calm to be a product of my obvious lack of a human soul, something I so genuinely longed for. Perhaps my ability of having nothing to lose appealed to the professor. I had nothing to feel but sadness as it was, there was nothing left that he could damage, nothing he could hurt.

Night finally set in and I moved back into the cabin to lie down. A rush of composed fear passed over me as I wondered if the raven would again visit my dreams. A part of me wished it would, longed to know what it would do. It was just a dream after all, and though it was terrifying, I was curious to get closer and peer deeper into those beautiful eyes and sharp sleek feathers.

A GIFT

In the morning, I rose to the deafening sound of sparrows and robins in the trees outside the cabin. I looked to my clock, determining I had more time today than I had yesterday, more time to prepare before Scott would inevitably come knocking. I threw my head back into the pillow in annoyance, to my disappointment, my dreams had remained blank all night and the raven had not returned.

I crawled out of bed and grabbed the same jeans I’d worn the day before, now grimy and smelling of damp denim and fish. Digging deeper in the bag I also grabbed a deep blue thermal tee, which thankfully, was fresh and clean. Eventually I feared I would need to do some laundry.

Walking to the bathroom, I slid the pocket door shut behind me and snapped the small lock out of habit. I grabbed some soap from the basin of the shower and washed my face in brisk strokes, slightly spooked that when I opened my eyes, a raven would be standing there. Brushing my hair, I thought about the professor’s powerful physique and amazing strength. He was like a Greek god, but without the weight rooms and triathlons. He was a far cry from all the boys I’d seen back in High School and I couldn’t help but acknowledge the fact that he was exceedingly attractive.

Staring in the mirror, I became lost in my clear blue eyes. I forgot the professor and instead began wondering why nothing laid there behind something so beautiful and clear. I had seen the life in Scott’s eyes, the lucid depth of happiness and feeling. Mine were completely stripped of that spark, replaced by doped and forged emotion that only reflected emptiness. I finally pulled my gaze away as my eyebrows pushed together in disgust.

I walked back into the main space and approached the window, the sunlight streaming into the room in sharp blades. The purple flower on the sill had begun to multiply, two new sprigs sprung from the moist dirt as they began to yawn their gentle petals toward the morning light. I touched one leaf as it opened toward me. I sighed at its loving beauty, grateful that at least it had seemed content with its simple life.

As I glanced up from the plant and out the window, I saw Scott advancing up the hill toward my cabin. Rolling my eyes, I opened my door and gave him a wave of recognition, figuring I’d meet him half way. I knelt down for my boots, jumping back in shock by what laid beside it. Discarded near the sole, coaxed by the gentle breeze, was a single black feather. Not sure what to do next, I moved forward and knelt down, grasping the quill with a shaking hand and bringing it to my face. My breath fell upon the feather in measured waves as I examined its strange appearance.

“What’s that?” Scott huffed as he approached me.

I narrowed my eyes and stared at the separate follicles of the perfect feather, unfazed by his interruption. “It’s a feather,” I said blankly, my mind swimming with recognition.  I twisted it in my hand, noticing the evident opalescent glow it possessed.

Scott snatched it from my hand as I stood with my mouth open in amazement.

“A crow feather,” Scott replied.

I slowly knelt down and grabbed my boots, my eyes still wide as I motioned to pull them on. “I think it’s a raven feather actually,” I corrected him guilefully.

Scott gave me a confounded look, “Raven, crow. What’s the difference?”

I discreetly rolled my eyes, snapping out of my trance, unwilling to correct his dim-witted statement a second time. “Sure, maybe you’re right,” I replied.

Scott pushed the feather back to me and I ran inside to place it on my bed stand. Its beauty was breathtaking, and the way it sat on the table made it seem like it was weightless. I heard Scott whistle with impatience outside so I quickly grabbed the framed note from my mother and touched my hands to the words, “I love you mother,” I whispered before placing it back on the stand next to the feather.

I grabbed my bag and rushed out the door as Scott stood tapping his foot with his hands in his pockets. “Sorry,” I breathed as I reached his side, “I know we’re late.”

His innocent smile suggested he hadn’t cared, but I knew he was just being passive-aggressive.

We walked down the hill in silence as I considered the appearance of the feather and how it could be linked to the nightmare from yesterday. It had all seemed surreal in the new light of another day and as we approached the cafeteria, I was anxious to get to the bird lab. There was so much I needed to learn.

Today, Scott piled his plate high with what appeared to be country hash browns and tofu gravy. Looking at his massive portion made my stomach curdle with disgust and I fought back the sudden urge to puke. I again opted for a bran muffin, figuring it would be the easiest on my stomach. As we sat at the same table, I watched Scott shovel spoonful after spoonful of the vomit looking substance into his mouth as I urged myself to eat, despite the nauseated feeling he was giving me.

“So,” Scott looked up at me as he at last began to get full, “You think you’ll make it through all your classes today?”

I shrugged, “I’d hope.” I took a moment to swallow my last bite of muffin, “Depends on what Professor Edgar has me do today I suppose.”

Scott let out a menacing chuckle, “You’ve got to figure the worst is over, he never picks on the same person twice.”

I looked at him sideways, “Is it normal for people to react the way I did? For him to react the way he had?” I was searching to see if it had just been me or if I was imagining that there was some connection.

Scott snorted under his breath and raised his eyebrows, “I don’t know. That sure was weird, but seeing as he’s weird all around, I wouldn’t really worry about it.” He gave me a playful wave with his hand that told me to brush it off, but I couldn’t.

I was eager to get through with hatchery class, anxious to see those eyes again. We took our plates to the cleaning tubs and left the cafeteria a little early, our paces still in overdrive from the rush of earlier. We arrived at the hatchery and again the room was empty. Scott shuffled to the tanks and peered into its depths. I hung back, fearing that if there was a repeat of yesterday, eventually Scott would have to notice something about me really was strange.

“Hey look!” Scott pointed to my same tank, “This tank has one fish that’s much bigger than the rest.” His voice was shrill and annoying.

I rolled my eyes, knowing it was the fish I’d helped yesterday. He had grown overnight as I’d suspected he might.

“He must have jumped from one of the adjoining tanks,” he said frankly, trying to rationalize the occurrence. Scott’s theory was deeply flawed considering both adjacent tanks were filled with smaller fish.

I nodded, “Hmm… Must be.”

He looked at me with a proud grin as though he had accomplished some grand feat.

I would have at least expected he would notice that there were still a dozen fish in each tank. So unless one jumped to that specific tank while one from the tank in question jumped to the other, nothing about his statement rang true. I averted my gaze from him, hoping he wouldn’t see through to me.

To my relief, the rest of the class trickled in and I again sunk to the back of the room, even farther away from the tanks, if that was even possible. The professor showed the class different vials containing different breeds of fertilized fish eggs. From far away they looked like little less than small dots and I didn’t really see the point. I didn’t necessarily prefer the idea of fish eggs, something so slimy, so disgusting.

I glanced out the high narrow windows of the hatchery toward the glacial peak across the lake. Being that I spent most of my life in Seattle, I still hadn’t really seen snow, at least, not in the way I would hope. The slushy mess in the city was more of a wet inconvenience rather than a beautiful occurrence. I’d often wondered, over the sounds of traffic, if snow made a sound. My eyes scanned the ominous misty clouds as they circled the highest peak like smoke. For a while, I let the tranquility of the scene engulfed me as the world around me fell away.

I closed my eyes, imagining the feeling of being up on that peak, imagining what it was like to be the cloud, wrapping my arms around the mountain with the real feeling of love and freedom. When I opened my eyes a few minutes later, I fell back to my sad reality. My heart hadn’t felt the way my mind had and I looked back to the class in miserable defeat.

The students were now passing the vials around the room and I watched with fear as they made their way toward me. I slammed my hands deep into the pockets of my jeans as Scott thrust one vile in my face. I pursed my lips in my best imitation of disgust and shook my head in rejection. Scott shrugged and passed them back forward. I wasn’t about to touch the egg, dead or alive, the outcome would be horrifically hard to lie about, or try and hide.

After the vials were returned to the front, the professor dumped each into a separate tank that sat on her desk. My guess, since I hadn’t been listening, was it was so that we could watch the hatching process throughout the week. I took a deep breath before exhaling, realizing I had narrowly escaped this one.

The class was dismissed and the room broke out into the low hum of quiet conversation. One group of students gathered in the corner where it was no secret whom they were talking about as their eyes shot back and forth between Scott and me, their voices reverberating in hushed tones against the walls. I swallowed hard as I began to feel uncomfortable and I made an annoyed move to leave.

Scott took no notice of them as we made our way to the door, though my eyes were fixed on their cold expressions.

A sudden snort grumbled in Scott’s throat and I forcibly broke the gaze to look at him. “Well, off to see Professor Doom now,” He eyed me sideways.

I gave him an annoyed punch on the arm, making him laugh and jump away from me, a flirtatious action to any onlooker, though it was anything but.

As we walked to the lab down the gravel path, I let the crunching sound of the calm the beating of my heart. I couldn’t tell if I was scared, or just anxious but there was a feeling inside me that I had never really felt before. As Scott opened the large door to the lab, my eyes fell on the familiar scene from my dream, yet more realistic and a lot less fogged.

We took our same stools in the back row and I sat there tapping my fingers on the table, looking down into the milky white of the Formica counter and letting my hair fall in white curtains around my face. I felt Scott’s eyes on me and I knew he was worried. He gave me a characteristic and awkward pat on the back and I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing he’d just leave me alone.

Each student whispered in harsh tones as they passed by my stool on their way in. I glared at each, knowing my face could be equally as threatening as the professor’s had been. My pale sharp features were easy to manipulate, they had to be if I expected to fit in and smile from time to time.

The door to the front again squeaked open and the room fell to the same stone cold hush. The professor entered the room, a small owl perched on his shoulder like a statue, but this time, my chest didn’t sting and I was surprised. I watched the professor like a hawk as he paced with confidence to the front.

The grey eyes behind his tinted lenses no longer possessed the same intensity they had before and there was something that felt different about him, more guarded. His porcelain face and dark hair was perfectly cared for and I’d wondered how someone could look so good when exposed to so little in the rugged seclusion of the mountains.

“Alright class,” he boomed, scanning each student, but this time omitting my gaze. “This is a Northern Spotted Owl,” he continued, lifting the small bird in the air for everyone to see.

There was no sign of the same wicked intensity from yesterday but I could still feel the gravitational pull toward him. It felt as though a small string was attached to my chest and he was reeling me in one small click at a time. I sat on the edge of my stool, my eyes still fixed on his, urging him to look at me.

“He is from the Strigidae family and classified as vulnerable under our conservation status.” The owl turned its head as though it were unattached to its body, his reflective yellow eyes flashing calmly like a cat at night.

“Because they live in old growth forests, we must learn to care for them respectively.” He paced in large strides at the front of the room.

I was frustrated by his sudden change of mood toward me, he was ignoring me and I hated it. I squirmed on my stool with obnoxious intent, trying anything I could to gain his interest.

Scott whispered from the corner of his mouth, “You ok Elle?”

I flagrantly nodded as he continued his statuesque position beside me, eyeing me with a nervous glare.

Time passed as the professor droned on about the owl and I eventually gave up. My initial excitement about the professor, and also the condition of the hawk had began to subside and I began to wonder if yesterday had really happened. If he knew anything, he wasn’t going to reveal it to the class, but still, his eyes mesmerized me and the strange pull toward him remained. As the minutes passed, I could feel the string between us growing taught, almost to a level I couldn’t resist.

“And that will be all,” he finally boomed.

I snapped out of the dazed stare I had on him as he bowed to the class, breaking his hold over me. It was like someone had taken out a pair of scissors and snipped the line, the sudden relief like releasing a catapult on my chest.

He elegantly strode out of the room with a speed that amazed me. I sat there dazed for a moment as my mind worked through the fog that had still rolled in despite his changed demeanor. Scott stood from his stool as he stared at me, poised to catch me should I faint yet again.

“You okay there Elle?” he stammered, not sure if he could handle another trip to the nurse.

The hint of concern in his voice only irritated me further. Why hadn’t Edgar approached me? Why hadn’t he questioned me about what had happened the previous day? I released the angry grip I had on the table as I grabbed for my bag, storming past Scott and pushing through the doors.

Scott followed me like a timid pet dog.

I took a deep breath, “What is that guy’s problem!” I screeched, my voice cutting across the courtyard.

Scott looked at me with a sad face, and for a moment, I felt guilty for snapping at him. His eyes were wide and his lip trembled as he shrugged, finding himself at a loss for words.

“I’m sorry Scott,” I let down my guard and walked back toward him, giving him a friendly pat on the arm. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, it’s just…” I quickly thought of what to use as an excuse, “It’s just that he didn’t even apologize to me for what he did.”

A look of relief crossed his face, “Yeah,” he paused as his demeanor now changed back to his awkward bubbly self, “He’s just a weird guy.”

I faked a laugh, figuring it would help to put the whole incident behind us. We began walking again as we made our way to the greenhouses and what I would hope to be my favorite class. I needed something to calm me, something to regroup my thoughts.

The greenhouses were past the cafeteria down a long outdoor hallway created by the eves of the adjacent buildings. As we entered onto the trail that passed through a large field, the tall grasses bowed toward me as though I was a magnet and they were made of metal. Scott looked around him with suspicion, but the bending grass was so slight, it was hard for him to believe what exactly he was seeing.

“So how was this class yesterday?” I asked, making a strategic move to distract him.

His gaze tried to break away from the grasses. “Good. We uh…” he was still looking around uneasily, unable to look away, “Well I mean, after I took you to the infirmary, we planted some sunflower seeds and learned about edible plants.”

My eyebrows rose, trying to create more drama, “Edible plants huh?”

“Yeah,” his voice sounded far off and dazed.

I cleared my throat in an attempt to break his attention. The stunned look began to leave his face and he looked me in the eye.

“So if we’re ever out hiking or get lost, we know what we can and can’t eat,” he continued.

To my relief, I could see his attention to the grasses had been lost and I mentally awarded myself for successfully confusing him. The wind blew freely through my hair, wrapping it around me as it loved to do.

“Well that’s always a useful tool isn’t it, knowing what won’t poison us?” I ventured.

He nodded gravely, now mesmerized by my eyes in the sun. As we finally reached the door to the green house, his mind had been completely lost. I thought to myself for a brief moment, if he thought the grasses were odd, wait until he saw what would happen inside. I only hoped they’d had wide enough aisles so I could distance myself away from the plants enough so not to create any major waves.

Scott grabbed the handle and flew open the doors. To my relief, my wishes had been granted as spacious and wide halls were laid out the whole length of the room. Everything was cast in a warm green color from the glass, and the humid air of the greenhouse was welcoming against my fair skin. Any environment where plants could thrive always made me feel exceedingly more comfortable, and soon, as my tension relaxed, so did the pull I had on the plants.

“So here we are…” His voice trailed off. He watched me in amazement as I approached a long bench of planted lilies.

Each lily slowly turned its petals toward me, so slowly that it was hardly discernable. It was as though I was the sun, and I saw Scott choke up completely.

“How did you…” He stammered.

I whipped my head to face him. “How did I what?” I questioned with confidence, figuring like always, it was easy to convince people they’d just imagined it. It was human nature that no one wanted to admit they were crazy.

“Never mind,” he looked down, shaking his head in disbelief, internally fighting with what he had, or rather hadn’t seen.

As the rest of the class filled the room and the lilies paled in comparison to the crowded space and I felt a sense of relief. Among all the students, it would be easy to keep my secret. I stood perfectly still, breathing as light as possible.

The rest of the day Scott eyed me with confusion. Eventually I was able to trick his mind so deeply that he hadn’t even known where the sky was. After our last class, he walked me toward my cabin, but his new found silence was a worrisome addition.

“So,” his brow was furled as it had been all day, “You want to go get dinner or something?” He had a look on his face that suggested he wasn’t even sure if he was really hungry.

I gave him a sour look. I desperately wanted to rush back to my room to examine the raven feather more closely, so I quickly thought of an excuse. “No…” I pushed my hands in my pockets, “I’m still tired from all this, I may just go lay down.”

Scotts gaze was locked on the ground, “Oh…” I could tell his mind was still perplexed, “Yeah that’s totally cool.” We stopped on the path and he looked at me, “Well, guess I’ll catch you tomorrow?” He smiled but it was bleak and I feared I may have lost him.

“Yep.” I faked another grin, feeling I’d ruined him enough today. “Just come get me in the morning.” This friendship stuff was getting easier by the second. I never knew manipulating someone could be so simple.

He turned toward the cafeteria like a stunned puppy.

“Bye,” I waved, but I figured it wasn’t doing any good so I sighed and turned toward the cabin, picking up my pace in sudden excitement.

THE MEADOW

I rushed in the door, slamming it hard behind me as the wind I’d made caused the feather to flutter on the bed stand. I looked at it with hungry eyes as I raced across the room, discarding my bag on the floor like dirty laundry. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, I reached down to flick on the lamp as the spray of light caused the feather to glimmer like brilliant steel. With caution, I reached toward the quill, allowing its glowing luminosity to catch my eye.

As I spun the feather under the lamp, its dimensional blackness amazed me. Never before had I seen something so radiant, so mysterious.

“Ouch,” I yelped, looking at my finger in alarm as the quill cut through my skin. I examined the bloodied end, seeing that it was sharp as a razor. With greater caution, I held it like a pen and scraped it along the wood table as a sliver of maple curled up toward me. It was not only sharp, but extremely strong and I gasped in disbelief. This was no ordinary feather, it was armor.

I blinked as I stared at it some more, brushing the fronds through my fingers, careful to avoid the tip. As I tried to flatten the black barbs into the center, like a thin wisp, they instantly sprayed back out into a perfect fan. I held it close to my face and narrowed my gaze, examining the weave and finding it completely unaltered as though it had never even been touched. No matter how much pressure I applied, I couldn’t destroy it or unravel its secrets.

I lay back on my bed, questioning if the quill really could have come from the raven in my dream, the menacing, large and powerful bird I’d imagined. A wave of anxiety rose over me and I placed the feather back to rest as I shut my eyes in denial. I felt restless, my mind racing faster than it ever had.

Leaping from my bed, I eagerly grabbed a coat from my bag that still sat unpacked on the floor. Pressing my arms through the sleeves with haste, I walked back outside. It was late afternoon and I longed for some sort of release and exercise. Looking around I noticed there was a path that advanced further up the hill and into the woods. I took off at a brisk pace past my cabin, taking every step with an anxious purpose I had never known.

As I entered the woods, I came a cross a small manmade hut with a bench where I decided to take a moment to rest after the steep uphill hike. As I sat there, I looked around, taking in every site and sound, unable to hide from the fact that I felt like something was watching me. I shook my head, again blaming my medication.

The general dampness of the woods felt cool and nice as the sun streamed through the branches in misty bands, landing radiantly on the fern covered forest floor. Where the sun hit the ferns, the forest came alive with vivid greens and yellows, something I had rarely seen back home. After a moment of rest under the canopy of the branch-covered hut, I took off again on the trail through the woods.

My gaze was fixed toward the sky and the massive canopy above me as I treaded past droves of berries and moss, my feet sinking into the saturated ground. The stillness of the woods made the voices in my head pound against my temples. I closed my eyes as I beckoned for them to shut up, pleading for them to give me peace. I tried to concentrate on my pace as the malleable turf beneath my feet gave even further, mucking up my boots and making it hard to find a good footing as I struggled along for what seemed an hour.

Ahead, the trees began to thin and my heart leapt at the thought of a new surrounding. I squinted toward the light, and as I approached, the forest opened up on a large pristine meadow. I gingerly stepped into the opening as the sun poured down on me, warming my cool face. Pulling my hands from my coat, I held them out to my sides, allowing my fingers to lace through the tall grass as it leaned toward me. In my wake, the grasses bloomed from my touch, leaving a trail of small white flowers and a burst of fragrance that tickled my nose.

Placing one foot before the other I made my way to the center of the field where I found a spot of grasses that seemed suitable to rest in. Easing my tired body to the ground, the earth cradled me like a bed, the roots gradually growing into a sort of frame beneath my weight. Looking toward the blue sky, powdered with misty puffs of clouds, I shut my eyes and worked to stifle every voice one at a time until there was nothing but the sounds of nature. A warm wind blew over me and I could feel the way my peculiar abilities had delightfully aggravated the plants in my radius.

I opened my eyes one at a time, seeing that a perfect circle of blooming wildflowers now surrounded the spot where I laid. The sun became hot and I shrugged off my jacket, allowing its bright light to kiss my face and hopefully reach into my dark soul. Bugs began to flock toward the fragrant scent of the flowers and a few landed on my pale skin. Before I knew it, no less than five ladybugs were crawling on me, their red wings deepening in color as they drew in my cocktail of life and energy.

In the far distance, I heard the song of a bird as the voices in my head completely faded away. A strange calm fell over me and all I could feel was my shallow breathing and the wind blowing through the grasses. I concentrated on the subtle sounds, finding them somehow familiar despite the fact that in my memory, this peace had never existed for me. My hands were sprawled to each side of my body and my fingers were spread as the grasses intertwined them like rings.

As I rested there, the sounds of the forest ceased to further nothingness as though a bell jar had been dropped around me, the stillness becoming numb. For a moment I didn’t move as my breathing began to quicken and the tight feeling in my chest returned. I twisted my eyes and looked around me, feeling as though I was now under water and like a sudden fear, something made me sit up straight as an arrow.

The sound of my breath dragged like echoes in my head and I looked around defensively and my eyes instantly shot to a black object now perched straight in front of me. There, at the edge of the flowers sat a large black raven. Terror struck my heart with a heavy vengeance as I stared motionless, contemplating my next move. Grasping my chest in pain, I locked onto its gaze like a magnet.

The ravens stare refused to falter as he seemed to be asking me questions, ripping at my head as he searched my thoughts for answers. The raven’s eyes and feathers were not like the one in my dream, they were dull and flat, like you would expect from a regular raven. Something about the bird seemed far more sinister as it stood there very still, head turned to the side with his mouth open, breathing through its beak.

Anxiety filled my limbs as I tried hard to push through the fog in my head. Without warning the raven made an abrupt hop closer to my shielding flowers and let out a shrill “caw!” as though angry I had tried to disrupt his invasion into my head. I jumped, feeling the adrenaline pulsing painfully through my clenched chest. From behind me came another piercing “caw!” and I snapped my neck around as the raven before me released his stare to look to the sky. The terror in me grew stronger as another raven dove down at me, talons bared and eyes blazing a deep blue-grey, just like the raven of my nightmare.

As fast as my limbs could manage, I summoned them to move, staggering to a standing position as I began to run. The large raven flew down over my head and I ducked, feeling the wind from its wings as it fluttered through my hair before diving with violence down onto the other raven. I fell onto my side in shock, falling on my arm and feeling my skin rip as the grasses stained my jeans.

As I struggled to get back up, my eyes shot to where the two ravens were now fighting, horrifying screams coming from both. The raven that had seemed to save me glittered like a black pearl in the sun and I gasped as I saw the fury in his glowing eyes. As the glowing raven scratched in fierce blows at the matte raven, my chest began to seize with so much pain I could barely remain conscious and I averted my stare as the agony buckled me onto the ground where I struggled to catch my breath, choked in my attempt to get away.

My eyes squeezed shut as everything around me began to die and the whole field turned to fog and darkness. I crawled on the ground, clenching my chest as my limbs went rigid and I could no longer see through the thick mist of my mind. In the far distance, the sharp screams of the ravens ceased as though another bell jar had been dropped over me and for a moment the silence of the field returned.

I breathed hard as I struggled to see what was happening but it was as though someone had covered me in a shroud of black. I heard footsteps approach as I lie paralyzed on the ground where strong arms ripped me from the earth, positioning me in their cradling grasp. There was nothing I could do to get away, so I let my body receive its fate as I gave in. Something in my chest tried to surface beneath the clenching pain but I couldn’t discern the feeling. I struggled to look at who had grabbed me, but all I could see were the dark clouds crossing behind my eyes. I groaned, feeling that we were now running away from the scene, the sound of breaking branches and moving ferns brushing past us.

I then heard the familiar crunching of the gravel path, sooner than I’d expected as I had been falling in and out of consciousness, and I recognized that we were back at the college. The footsteps were slower now, calmer than they had been. The clouds of my mind began to dissipate as I heard a door opening and felt my body being placed on a soft bed. As the grasp on me was released, I heard a curious scratching as a gentle wind blew over my face and I struggled harder then ever to see what I’d heard. Forcing my eyes to work, I caught nothing more than a dark flashing silhouette of something I couldn’t recognize as a familiar voice screeched from another room.

“Oh Miss!” I saw the blur of the nurse running toward me, “What happened?”

I moaned in pain as I felt the burning in my arm increase as a warm thick liquid dripped from it like honey. My movement began to return as my mind was again able to work through the strange dark fog and comprehend what was now happening.

“Miss, who brought you here?” I could feel the nurse gently grasp my arm.

I attempted to get up but her firm touch forced me back down on the bed. Memories screamed through my head as I worked to put the events together before my mind sucked them away from me. The ravens, I thought, and those eyes. There was no reply to give her, no hint of who saved me so I gave no reply.

“Just rest then,” she said, realizing I was in no condition to answer her. She put a cold towel to my head as she began to hum.

I felt exhausted, and as my eyesight came back I noticed it was dark outside. I struggled to put the events together, the matte raven and the glittering raven. Why had the other raven tried to read my thoughts? It had tried to take something from me, something I hadn’t even known I had. I felt my chest for answers, looking for the dark rooms I had locked away like a secret inside my soul.

I winced as the nurse poked me with a needle and the stinging subsided to a numbing relief. I listened as she continued to hum, the song lulling my mind and encouraging my body to relax. I heard the plinking and gentle tug of my skin as she stitched a large gash close to my elbow.

“There you are now.” I heard her snip the string.

I turned my head, opening my eyes to look at her. She had a plump smile on her face as she noticed me. The single light in the room was magnified on my blood stained arm as she pressed a warm rag to the wound. She reached for some gauze and wrapped in tights rows around my arm, the pressure relieving some of the deep aching pain.

She patted me on the shoulder as she pulled a blanket over me. “Sleep,” she whispered in my ear.

I closed my eyes as she flicked off the lamp and I heard her walk like a silent cat out of the room, closing the door in her wake.

As I lay there falling asleep, I thought of my mother. She had lied to me by telling me I was safe, lied that I’d find my soul and my happiness. There was something she had known, something I longed to remember about her. I clenched my eyes shut as the same depressing numbness filled my heart and I tried harder than ever to cry.

SPY

I woke to the sharp feeling of pain as I opened my eyes, seeing the nurse re-wrapping my arm. She was humming again, but this time the stinging was too great for it to calm me.

“Well now,” she saw that I was alert, “are you able to remember how this happened?”

I glanced at my exposed stitches, my arm bruised a deep purple that stood stark against the rest of my milky skin. The gash was about six inches long, and from the look of it, very deep.

I worked to make the words, “My…” I paused, clearing my throat. “I fell.”

She blinked at me in a way that suggested she didn’t quite believe me, but would.

“I fell out in the woods while I was hiking.” I tried my best to lie, my voice full of persuasion.

She smiled at me, “We all do it seems.” She let out a small sigh as she looked at me with pity, her beady eyes unassuming.

Her accent and overall weight hadn’t made her seem like the woodsy outdoorsy type. She tightened a new bandage around my arm as a shadow cast over the room. I looked to the door as Scott entered, a dorky smile plastered on his face. My heart sank as a strange part of me hoped to see the professor.

“I guess I’ve really got to keep my eyes on you,” he joked, his hands clasped at his waist.

The nurse watched his nervous and caring reaction toward me and she smirked in delight to herself.

I gave him a blank stare, angry that she’d assume he was my boyfriend, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“You up for going to class?” he asked with an eager pop.

I was quick to sit up, a strange surge of excitement filling my limbs at the thought of seeing the professor again. “Yeah,” I looked to the nurse for permission, “I feel alright.”

She gave me a grave stare, “Are you sure miss?” She then looked to Scott as another smirk crossed her face.

Rolling my eyes, I nodded as my arm stung under my weight. She helped me up as I worked hard to stifle a wince. Scott handed me my bag and I grabbed it with my good arm, lacing it onto my elbow.

“There’s a muffin in there for you too, since you missed breakfast.” The sheepish look on his face made me want to vomit, that, and I was really sick of muffins.

I gave him an awkward glance, “Oh.” I walked toward the door on weak legs, “Thanks.” I took a deep breath as we exited, willing my body to work like normal.

We took our time getting to the hatchery where I noticed we were very late. As we entered, everyone stared at my arm with horrified looks of curiosity. The last thing I needed was more attention and more reasons for them to start rumors. The professor stood silently as we walked to the back of class and stood.

“Glad you could make it,” she gave me a warm and inviting smile and I figured she must have heard I’d been injured.

She continued to preach as Scott turned to me, “So what did you do this time?” His voice was full of humor.

I kept my eyes to the front, hiding the lies, “I fell while I was taking a short hike.”

He let out a quiet snort, “So then who brought you in?” His gaze became doubtful.

I stood still, breathing for a moment, struggling to remember as I searched hard to recognize who it was. “I’m not really sure.” I crinkled my brow in irritation.

“Strange.” I could feel his stare searing through me and I realized he was starting to catch on.

I looked at him, a fake nonchalant smirk on my face, “I’m sure it was just another hiker.”

He nodded in compliance, accepting the explanation, “Yeah, you’re probably right. Too bad they didn’t stick around,” he shrugged.

“Yeah,” I thought about the obscure figure as it had left, I didn’t want to believe the raven had taken me down the hill. My mind hid the facts it was unwilling to acknowledge. Had the professor been there? And if so, why had he saved me if the evil in his eyes seemed to suggest otherwise. I was anxious to get to his class, motivated to find out the truth.

The professor pointed to the tank of fish eggs as we gathered around, two had hatched and were huddled into the rocks at the bottom while the other eggs still sat idle. Scott looked enthralled, his innocence easily amazed.

The professor motioned us to the tanks where I hung back, “So. Do you think Professor Edgar is hiding something?”  I asked, curious to get Scott’s take as I leaned toward him.

“I’m not sure,” he hissed. There was a strange hostility now lacing his voice and I realized he was probably angry because he was thinking my obsession with the professor meant I liked him, but that was absurd.

I leaned back, finding he was in no mood for chitchat. Finally, the professor excused us and I grabbed Scott’s arm and dragged him outside before he could ask the professor a million stupid questions and make us late.

“Ouch! Gosh!” He looked at me confused, his face still a little angry.

“Oh just hurry,” I hissed back.

A sly smile came to his face, mixed with a subtle hint of disappointment. “You like Professor Edgar don’t you?”

I snorted, “Yeah right.” I gave him a deep threatening stare, imagining my blue eyes blazing at him with anger. “He’s just…” I paused, trying to think of the right word, “Interesting.”

Scott rolled his eyes at me as I dragged him by the arm down the path. “Sure. Whatever.” I saw a wounded glimmer in his eyes but he forced himself to hide it. I felt somewhat guilty, but at the same time, I had too much to worry about already.

“I just don’t know Elle,” he paused, the concern in his voice irritating me, “He seems dangerous somehow, just weird.”

We blazed into the lab and I threw him down in his stool. “Just watch him, tell me what you think he’s got on his mind,” I snapped.

He blinked at me, nodding in obedience. We were early, this I knew, but I was anxious. The rest of the class trickled in as my nerves grew, my arm pulsing in pain from the rush of blood through my veins. I kept my eyes locked on the door where he entered, thinking that at any moment he could burst in.

Everyone had arrived, each still eyeing me with interest and distaste. I had never had so many people stare at me with so much hate. In the city, there was always someone that looked more like a freak. Out here though, it was hard to be away from the things that made them curious, I was beginning to worry that coming here was a bad idea after all.

As I watched the door in focused curiosity, I finally saw it swing open and the professor entered the room. My heart stopped at the obvious addition of a few vicious scratches on his neck and hands. He wore a tall collared lab coat in his attempt to conceal the wounds, but as I had suspected, I knew exactly where they came from and it finally all began to make sense. He was the person that carried me from the field, and he was somehow involved with the fight between the ravens. He scanned the class, his gaze behind the glasses a calm familiar steel grey.

My eyes were wide as his gaze rested on me and he took me by surprise. In the split second he allowed it to linger, two notions shot in my head. The initial glimmer he gave me was that of concern but then something about him urged me to stay calm. I took a deep breath, slowly releasing it as I caught Scott glancing at me from the corner of my eye. I brought my hands to my face and tucked my hair behind my ears as the professor’s gaze whipped to my arm as he knelt to bring a large wood box to the table in front of him.

“Today, we will discuss the environmental impact humans have on the country and how this is causing non-native species to flock to the area and how this changes our ecosystem.” His eyebrows were furled as he opened the box before him. His grasp delicate as it touched the wood.

Something about what he had in the box made my heart race and I worked to stifle it, telling myself to be brave.

Edgar pulled on two large gloves, his youthful face stone cold in his concentration on the box. He hesitated before reaching in, his hands fumbling with the contents. I gasped as he pulled out the lifeless mass and he shot a quick glance at me over his glasses, his eyes calm and glowing.

I threw my hand to my mouth, hushing my disruption as a few students gave me dirty looks. There in his hands was the motionless and shattered body of the matte colored raven. The creature’s eyes were dead and blank, no longer sinister in their bottomless draw.

Some of the class squirmed as he placed it on the stark white table, blood smearing in thick crimson brushstrokes across the Formica.

“This is a raven,” he boomed, his gaze on me strange and protective.

Scott nudged me and I stared at him with sharp eyes. “Or a crow,” he ventured with a joking smile on his face.

I gave him an evil glare as I turned back.

The professor seemed to hear exactly what Scott had said as his stern gaze fell on him, “Not to be mistaken for a crow, though they are from the same Genus, the Corvus group,” he smartly added.

Scott’s back went rigid at the comment, fear striking his timid mind.

A brave but boring looking girl toward the front raised her hand and I eyed her with disdain. Professor Edgar glanced toward her, nodding in observance and allowing her to speak.

“But that’s not non-native,” she paused, an obvious shake to her voice, “Northern Ravens are common in Washington and Canada.”

Edgar gave her a speculative look, “This is true, but unless you are as well trained as me, you will notice that in fact this is a large English Raven.”

The girl leaned forward, glancing at it closer, swallowing hard and nodding as she excused her misperception. I watched as she looked around the room, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“So then,” he paused to pace and think before addressing the whole class, “How did this bird manage to cross the Atlantic and the entire country to end up here?” His voice was amused.

The class looked at him in bewilderment and he eyed me again with a knowing stare. Something inside me knew how or at least why, but was unwilling to tell my mind. This bird was more than just a simple English raven.

“One may think this is impossible,” he boomed, “but it is amazing what can happen in nature when one finds its life threatened.” He paused, eyes glinting, “Or hungry.”

I shuddered at his comment. Thinking how threatening the raven had been and how viciously he’d attacked my mind. There was something he wanted from me, but fortunately, it was obvious that he didn’t get it.

The professor motioned the class to come take a closer look and everyone gathered around with caution. I rose from my stool, keeping the professor in my peripheral view as I approached the dead carcass with a guarded mask. Scott looked at the bird in dumbfounded amazement as the professor fell to the outer flanks of the crowd, circling his way toward me. I watched him, my lips parted as I breathed in calm waves through my mouth, afraid what I might smell emanating from the now rotting bird.

As he approached, my heart began to race. His coat grazed my calf as I watched him pass from the corner of my eye, my nostrils finally giving in as the breeze that followed him was quick to trigger my memory. It was the same sweet smell I had remembered from last night in the woods, something resembling honey and lilac. My notions were affirmed at that moment, and my accusing gaze shot to him as he seemed to turn and acknowledge my affirmation as though he knew exactly what I did.

Startled, I sunk away and rushed back to the safety of my seat, my back rigid with surprising fear as the class also dissipated to their stations. Edgar again took their attention as he removed the gloves from his perfect hands, discarding them in the trash.

“So,” he paused as a few stragglers hurried to get to their seats, “Your job is to research the area, develop a theory on what made him come here, and write me an essay.”

The class groaned in objection and he shot every one of them a threatening glare, his eyes changing from the serene blue-grey to a deep terrifying black.

“You are excused to begin your work,” he boomed in defiance, his eyes falling to me. “Estella.” he said my name in a way that made my heart stop and my face turn white as a ghost, “A moment please?” Everyone shot their eyes toward me, most with amusement and spite, but a few with grave compassion.

Scott looked at me, a pitiful appearance to his face. “Good luck Elle,” he squeaked under his breath. “Catch up to me later, we can work on this together.”

I nodded, realizing I probably had the best theory of everyone, but of course, who would believe me, let alone resist the urge to pack me off to the psych ward, again. When I had tried to explain my ability to someone for the first time, that was exactly what they had done. A psych ward is no place for a twelve year old, no place for anyone.

I stood on shaky legs and walked toward him as the last person left the room. I was fidgeting with my hands, nervous for what he had to say. His eyes had faded back to the same calm grey as I approached and though I tried to look away, I couldn’t. He sat leaning against his desk, one hand propping his body up like a statue. As I grew closer my instincts became acutely aware of how beautiful he was and I ran my hand through my hair as I reached him, worried that I’d pale in comparison.

He was wearing a simple white shirt under his black lab coat that seemed to fit his body well. His jeans were casual and well cut and it was apparent that they were much more expensive then the department store sale jeans I had on. He was like a model from an Abercrombie ad, impossibly portioned and toned.

He looked at me for a moment and I could see the thoughts forming in his head. I stood a few paces away like an awkward idiot, forcing myself to continue to look into his electric eyes while still holding a safe distance. He broke our stare and looked down into his lap, removing his tinted glasses and folding them in his hands.

“Estella,” his voice whispered in a way I hadn’t heard before, eyes still fixed on his lap. His change of composure from the first day to now was astronomical.

“Professor?” my voice sounded weak.

“Please, call me Edgar,” he breathed, his tone like butter.

He slowly rolled his gaze back to me and it took all my strength to resist the urge to step back as his pearl eyes glowed in a way that was so unnatural and strange. He took a steady breath, releasing it as it fell across my face in fresh fragrant waves.

“That was you,” I breathed. “You brought me back here from the meadow.” My eyes were wide, “How did you do that?” My memory flashed back to when he’d picked me up, as though I were a child, “You were so…strong.” My voice began to choke in my throat. “Why did you. How…”

He was quick to interrupt me, “You’re…” he paused, scanning my face with a look of longing, “You’re imagining things Estella. I merely found you while I was hiking, helpless in a field. I want to make sure we get that straight.”

I looked at him confused and all thought ceased.

He moved closer to me, lifting himself from his desk with ease, his gorgeous face now close to mine. “And besides, it was nothing to write home about. You’re light and easy to carry,” he whispered, the smirk on his face growing.

I looked at him alarmed, shaking my head, “No I…” I paused, struggling again to calm the voices in my mind. It still didn’t seem right. I was missing something, something big.

“Then what do you think happened?” he mused, his face now writhing with interest, “You obviously know something. I can see that you are perplexed.” He scanned my eyes, watching my every movement like an Eagle watching its prey.

I shook my head, denying his accusation as my brow furled with deep misunderstanding. I wasn’t about to divulge my thoughts to him, I didn’t trust him.

A gruff snort escaped his lips, his youthful face taking on a humored appearance as a crooked smile curled across his face. “I know that you possess certain…” his voice trailed off as he narrowed his eyes in thought, “talents.” He watched me as I thought over his words, “You don’t think I didn’t notice what you did to my hawk? You healed him.”

I opened my mouth to protest but no sound came out. I tried to think of a lie but nothing believable came to mind.

He closed his brilliant eyes and leaned away from me, taking a deep breath as though relishing the air around me. When he opened them an extraordinary feeling poured out over me. It was as though I was the perfume of life, which I was, but how could he tell?

“Don’t be afraid though, what you did comes as no surprise to me. It was more of a positive affirmation of who you are.” He looked at me with sly eyes.

I felt the familiar pull toward him as he exhaled.

“What do you mean?” I asked. I felt dazed as his breath gave me goose bumps. This was all so unbelievable, so abrupt, “This makes no sense. I don’t even know you, but you act as though you know me.” The way he was leaning toward me was somewhat uncomfortable. It was clear that he was hitting on me, but I was still so confused about how I felt toward him. I mean, I thought he was extremely cute, but at the same time terrifying.

An oblique smile washed across his face and I couldn’t look away from his beauty, “Would you like to know me?”

I stared for a moment before nodding, not certain if I really did want to know or not.

I jumped as he let out a malicious laugh. “Well then,” he breathed, “You will.”

Irritation pulsed through my veins but the sincerity in his voice was amazing and I felt my knees weaken under me. I had never felt this way toward anyone, there was a pull I could not explain toward him, an interest I’ve never felt.

“But the raven,” I looked toward the dead carcass, “the other one. The one that lived, what happened to it?” My body felt warm and weak. My assumptions, based on the scratches on his throat, were that he’d been attacked also, and had seen what happened.

He smiled, his eyes blazing. But as I waited he gave me no answer. He chuckled, the sound reverberating off the walls as he noticed my juxtaposition of feelings toward him, “You don’t have to fear me, I won’t hurt you,” he paused, “I know that since you’ve met me I’ve been a bit odd. It’s just, I hadn’t expected to ever see you again and it’s a little shocking.”

My face was twisted, “See me again? Professor, I think you have me mistaken for someone else.” This was all so weird, “I’m sorry, it’s just…” I gave him a fake smile, not knowing exactly what to say. There was no other explanation, he must be confused.

He let out another abrupt snort, “You don’t have to do that.”

I looked at him with a sour glare. “Do what?” I snapped in defense as I wiped the smile from my face. My confidence was building.

“Fake a smile. Though it is beautiful,” his eyes glinted, “Very convincing too.”

I blushed. How did he know I was faking it? Surely eighteen years of practice had produced a convincing act. I looked at him with renewed fervor, my breathing frantic. “How do you know I’m faking it?” I stammered.

He laughed low and loud, “Because, you’re not happy. Not even close. You’re too empty.”

My eyes searched his, “How…”

He cut me off, “Like I said, you’ve met me before, you have to trust me.” His smile never ceased and his eyes were still radiant, “How do I say this so you understand?” his eyebrows lifting in thought, “Let’s just say, you met me in another life.”

“I…” I was mystified and I put my hand to my chest, feeling the emptiness that he somehow knew was there. He met me in another life? That was illogical.

He looked at my scarred wrist again, something in his face taking on a sad fascination. Glancing away, he shifted to remove his coat. As he pushed the jacket from his biceps I stared at his arms in amazement. His skin was like a pearl and something inside me suddenly clicked. My eyes darted to his with overwhelming recollection, he was the other raven.

His gaze lingered on mine, relishing the way I was gawking at him.

Without a second thought I reached out to touch his skin but he was quick to slink away, “Estella, no!” His eyes saturated themselves in a deep black and I stepped back in horror. “Don’t do that,” he snapped.

I looked at him with wide eyes. His face now angry and horrified as my heart raced in impulsive fear. How had his eyes so suddenly changed?

“You can’t touch me,” he sighed, “I wish I could explain to you why, but not yet.” He looked at my face, now angry with himself for getting out of control. He clenched his jaw, “I have to be prepared for something like that.” His eyes began to lighten as he drew in a heavy breath.

“Sorry I…” stammering, I folded my arms around my stomach, “I couldn’t help it.”

He sighed, smiling, “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault. I should have expected you would do that. It’s just that, I need to learn better control of my mind. If I touch you, as strange as this may sound, it could really hurt you.” I saw his gaze fade back to grey as he looked at my arm, now trying to change the subject. “Are you ok? You were bleeding pretty profusely.”

I looked at him, my head swimming with questions, “Yes, I’m fine. It’s just a cut.”

He nodded.

My eyes were fixed on him in amazement, “I heal fast anyways.” I looked toward the table where the dead bird lay, unable to handle his strange beauty.

“Yes, I figured you did.” His voice was becoming calm as his eyes followed my gaze and a grave look crossed his face.

I stared at the carcass for a long moment before speaking, “What is it?” I asked, somewhat disgusted by the small drops of drying blood on the white table and wondering if he knew more than what he was divulging to me.

He sighed, “It’s a spy, of sorts.” His voice was vague. “You have no need to be afraid though, it won’t happen again. I’ll personally make sure of that.”

I looked at him, clenching my hands into a fist as I gathered the courage to ask what my mind was itching to know, “It was you wasn’t it.” My tone was accusing and my eyes narrowed, “You were the raven, the one that was glowing in the sun and the one that killed this one. You can…” my mind was throbbing with the thought, it was inconceivable, but suddenly so logical, “You can change into that thing, can’t you.” I gave him no option to deny me as my questions came out as statements.

He dropped his gaze to his lap, smiling to himself as he unfolded the tinted glasses in his hands and slid them casually back over his eyes. He changed the subject again, “You should probably get going. You’re going to be late for your next class.”

I looked to him as a grumble escaped my lips, not wanting to leave, “That’s it isn’t it, I’m right.”

His eyes narrowed behind the lenses. “I’d love to talk more but,” he exhaled, “I think we’ve said enough.” He leaned toward me, his eyes now very dark.

I leaned away from him in fear as my hands clenched even tighter.

“You smell utterly amazing if you don’t mind me saying.” He smirked.

I pressed my brows together in anger.

He stood and walked away from me toward his door. “I will see you later Estella,” his voice echoed over his shoulder, “and try not to let people notice what you are doing to the plants.”

I faked another smile out of habit as his words sent a shock through my core, how did he know about the plants?

Edgar laughed as he glanced back at me one more time. I had forgotten that smiling didn’t work on him and my eyes blinked as his laugh triggered something in my mind, an image I’d remembered as he gracefully exited the room.

As he closed the door behind him, my gaze fell on the black raven on the white table. Fear washed over me and I walked toward the door, keeping my eye on the carcass as though it would jump back to life. My limbs were tingling with urgency and my breath was hot and quick.

As I burst through the lab doors, the sun blinded me as I looked to the sky and drew in one deep breath. I hurried to reassemble the jumble of information I had just been handed as Scott came running from the building across the path, panting as though he’d just been chased.

“Are you ok?” He looked exceedingly concerned.

“Yeah,” I paused as he grabbed my arm, “Yeah I’m fine, he just…” I thought of another lie, “wanted to tell me about the hawk, he’s healing very well.” I was in a daze.

He nodded as his mouth gaped, “Oh good cause one more minute and I was going to have to burst in there and make sure you weren’t dead on the floor.” He chuckled to himself.

We walked to the greenhouses in silence. I was too lost in my thoughts to pretend to be interested in Scott’s trivial life. I put my hand to my chest as we walked into the field, Scott still eyeing the grasses with caution. Edgar knew what was in me, but how, and how had he known me? There were so many questions I needed answers too, I wanted to know why.

In class my mind was useless. Though the sunflower seed I’d planted a little later than everyone else was already a three-inch bud, I hadn’t cared. When the teacher questioned me, I just shrugged it off as though I myself was truly amazed at the strange occurrence.

I was frustrated that Edgar had now somehow decided to care about me as though I were something to inspect. He had been the one to save me in the meadow, but then how? How was he also the raven, and why had he killed the raven that was threatening me? These facts were all hard to believe, and his face, its utter attraction was amazing.

After classes were over I ditched Scott at the cafeteria and went back to Edgar’s lab but it was already locked. My hopes to find my answers today quickly faded. Despite my mental fear to be around him, I couldn’t resist. I had never been attracted to the guys back home, never tried to have any sort of relationship figuring they would eventually see my freakish nature and leave. But Edgar, he was different, something about him felt so appealing, so deeply attractive, and besides, he already knew I was weird.

I walked in disappointment back to my cabin where I laid down. After a moment of thought I got out my newest journal and drew the field from my foggy memory. I added the dead bird as I tried to remember the events. There were three things I listed about the scene.

The first was that the spying raven would not enter my field of life that had grown around me. It was like the flowers were protecting me.

Second, as I had become paralyzed on the ground, the grass around me had actually died. It had seemed really odd, especially since that had never happened.

And third, the fact that it had been Edgar that saved me, Edgar that was somehow the armored raven.

I pondered the evidence and found nothing to warrant its occurrence. Frustration passed over me as I threw the journal across the room, hitting the log wall with a deep thump. I threw my angry head into the pillow, depressed that I still felt nothing.

The darkness of the night rolled in unnoticed as I fell asleep. There, my fogged mind was again in the field, but to my horror, everything was lifeless. All the grasses and wildflowers had wilted and the trees were no more than torched sticks spearing from the ground. I was horrified, the whole world seemed to be dying and I felt hopeless to save it.

As I looked to the edge of the clearing, I saw Edgar standing there. His eyes were dark ebony and there was no smile on his face. I called to him but he did not move. He stood there still and dark in his angered beauty, in a trance as though controlled by a force beyond himself.

When I looked down at myself I gasped. My body was no more than a transparent fog. I was a ghost, soulless and invisible and as the wind picked up, I was completely blown away.

VISITORS

I abruptly woke in the darkness of my room, finding it pitch black and silent. Lying completely still, I listened for some sign of what had woken me, any kind of rustle, but there was nothing.  My eyes shot about the room, trying to breathe as quietly as possible, judging the hour but finding the darkness too hard to discern.

There was sweat already beading on my brow. My nightmares were ferocious as though some door to my dread and fear had been propped wide open. I felt for my body, relieved that I was still here. As I released the breath I had been holding, there was a strange shuffling noise and my eyes shot to the corner where I heard the distinct flutter of wings. My heart began to race as I stared through the darkness toward the location of the sound, waiting for something to move as I readied myself for whatever could come.

“Edgar?” I whispered, my heart pounding hard against my ribcage.

My eyes stayed locked on the corner as the dark shadows began to move. I was quick to react as I reached to flip on the lamp, my hands trembling with the switch, unable to coax it to work.

“Estella, it’s me.”

I instantly froze as I recognized Edgar’s voice.

A merciful laugh filled the small room. “It’s alright,” he whispered in a calming tone, “I didn’t mean to wake you, apparently I’m not as graceful as I’d hoped.”

I let go of the lamp cord but my body remained rigid.

His shadowed figure walked toward me and I sat up with caution as he perched himself at the edge of my bed. He was careful to keep his distance and I noticed as his eyes caught what little light there was in the room, glowing like a beautiful cat. I dropped the lamp cord and turned to face him, my movements slow and measured. I could smell his inviting scent billow across the bed and I breathed deep before reacting.

“You scared me,” I hissed as I finally exhaled.

“Sorry,” he apologized again, a mocking tone to his voice, “I just needed to come see you.”

Shocked by the forward comment, I furled my brow, feeling violated, “Were you watching me?” I asked in a sharp tone.

He laughed, “No, I just got here.” He adjusted himself on the bed and my heart rate quickened, “Though, not a bad idea.” I caught a glittering glimpse of his teeth as he smiled.

I was still trying to understand why he was here. “Okay,” I paused, “So why did you need to see me?” I questioned in defense.

He sighed, “I have to leave for a few days, just until Sunday.”

I intently listened, wondering what this had to do with me.

“I just needed to check on you before I left, make sure you were ok.” His voice was full of sincerity.

“I’m fine,” I spat. I didn’t need him to protect me. Despite my attraction toward him, something about me still didn’t trust him, especially now that he’d broken into my room.

He laughed again, sarcasm filling his voice, “Yeah, seems like it.”

I crossed my arms in defiance, my eyes now adjusting enough to make out his pearly outline in the darkness. A part of me was strangely disappointed that he would be gone, but I wasn’t about to admit that to him.

“Just,” a grave sigh seeped from his mouth, “Just don’t go in the woods again, not until I get back.” His eyes flashed away from me and I could see him looking to the windows, “There are things out there you can’t trust.” He leaned his elbow onto the foot of the bed, “If I didn’t have to leave, I wouldn’t, but it’s important.”

I nodded in acceptance.

He stood and walked toward the door, “Just promise me ok? Stay here, around people.”

I took a deep breath before answering, my head full of questions I’d thought up that day, “I promise.”

He exhaled, a sense of relief crossing his eyes and face, “Do you need anything? You know, before I go?” He was as still as a statue with his hand on the handle of the door.

His request was odd and it began to make me wonder as a thought popped into my head. A sly glimmer filled my eyes and my lips curled into a fake vindictive smirk. He gave me a stupid look; he had known I was acting.

“What is it?” He had a perceptive grin on his face now.

I sat up as excitement pulsed through my veins, “I just wanted to ask something.” He nodded as I formulated the right words, “I just need to know. What exactly do you know about me?” I blurted, blushing at the somewhat awkward question.

His hand fell from the handle to his side and he walked back toward me. “What do I know?” There was a chuckle in the back of his throat and his gaze fell on the nightstand where he grasped the framed letter and brought it to his face. His teeth like diamonds in the dark.

I intently watched as he touched his finger to the glass. I was trying to read the strange expression that came to his face, but in the horrid light, it was hard to tell.

“Estella,” his eyes were fixed on the words in the note, “You are amazingly unique. I don’t even think you can grasp just how much.” He placed the frame back on the table, bringing his gaze back to me. “Until you realize…”

I leaned forward, hanging on his every word.

He’d stopped himself before he answered, “You will see Elle, I promise. When I have more time, I will explain all this.” He stared at me with adoration, “There just isn’t the time right now.” The way he said my name was as though he’d said it a million times.

Frustration filled my mind and I dropped the fake act. “Well,” I wanted to urge him to tell me more but I found his stubbornness to be impossible. “Well then, tell me something else,” I uttered with urgency, trying to keep him here a bit longer.

My mind shot to the feather and how it had been like tiny armor, cutting into my finger like a razor. But I couldn’t formulate the right way to bring it up, not yet at least, so I quickly thought of something else in my attempt to hear him talk a bit longer.

I heard his steady strong breathing as he waited with patience, though I could tell he needed to leave, “What more do you wish to know?” he raised his eyebrows in curiosity.

I looked into my lap, picking at my fingernails. “Well, this one’s sort of childish but,” I paused, looking back up at him as his body loomed over me, “No one seems to know how old you are, I just want to know because you seem so young.” I held my breath knowing it was a dumb question, but still one that had perplexed me all day.

A boisterous laugh filled the cabin, “Of all the things you could have asked me,” he chuckled a bit more, “You chose to ask me that?” His eyes glinted, “You know you could have asked me anything, I was in the mood to be truthful.”

I cursed to myself for not asking the first question as he looked deep into my eyes. I began doubting myself, “Yeah,” I said sheepishly.

He noticed my damaged ego as he leaned his head down toward me, his face just inches from mine and his breath eloquently brushing my face. “To them,” his opal eyes were glimmering, “I am very old, yet look deceptively young.” He saw the shock cross my face, “But to you Estella, we are the same age.”

I gave him a confused look as he stood up straight, reaching in his coat pocket and retrieving a glowing feather. I further cursed as he handed it to me. Now had been the perfect time to ask. I looked at him with a reproachful glare as I gingerly plucked it from his gloved hand, examining it while avoiding its sharp razor edge. He had just affirmed his involvement with the pearl raven, but I was still unsure exactly what that involvement was.

In one brisk movement he turned and walked toward the door, “Just be safe Estella, and do try to go back to sleep.”

He opened the door and turned his head to look out, smirking one last time before taking off at a run. As I watched, completely astonished, there was a sudden burst of commotion and the footsteps turned to a flutter as the door slammed hard behind him.

I winced at the noise, coaxing my breathing to eventually slow to shallow waves in my chest as I stared at the door for a moment. I tried to process his abrupt invasion as I looked to where my mother’s framed note sat in the dark.

Turning on the light, it was just the same as it always had been. The rumpled edges still ragged as though it were a hundred years old. The sudden dose of adrenaline faded and my nerves released as I sat there in silence, reading the fateful words over and over. I tried to find whatever had made him look at the words the way he had, something I’d missed hidden inside them, but there was nothing more than there had always been.

In just a few short days my life had drastically changed, becoming something far more than I’d expected. I figured being out here would be enough of a challenge for me, let alone finding a whole other world of mystery and a strange sort of boyfriend that was half human and half something completely not. I set the frame back on the table, pulling the covers up to my eyes and flicking the light off to allow my vision to adjust.

The quiet was growing on me, just as long as it wasn’t too quiet. There were a few distant sounds of crickets and they comforted me. I had learned that as long as they were singing, nothing bad would happen.

Sleep crept back in on me and I could no longer force my eyes to stay open. I fell into my dreams where I once again returned to the meadow, but this time, to my relief, it was in full bloom. The weather was warmer than the fall weather now, more like mid-summer temperatures. As my eyes glanced around the misty dream, everything felt safe and my head was calm.

As I peeked down at my body, I was shocked by the warm sensation in my chest, relieved that my body was still there. As my gaze filtered back up, Edgar entered into the field and I instantly took notice, not just in sight, but in my heart. A true smile crossed my face as a feeling I’d never known came alive in my soul, the intrusion making me gasp for air as I struggled to recognize the sensation. As he approached, I brought one hand to my face, feeling a tear roll over my soft skin as I realized I was happy. He was almost to me now, and the warm feeling in my chest was stronger than anything I’d ever felt.

As I reached out to touch him it all dissipated as the morning light in the cabin rapidly grew brighter, beckoning me to wake. I opened my eyes and sadness rolled over me like a heavy wave. To my regret, the happiness I had felt had all been a dream. I sat up, more tired then I’d been since I’d arrived at the college and I rubbed my eyes with ferocity.

The light of day had finally come and I let a sharp exhale exit my mouth, disappointed that the sleep was gone, but relieved to find it was Saturday. I was looking forward to the fact that today I could at last take my time getting ready. I threw my legs to the side and gradually stood, shuffling to the kitchenette where some sample packs of coffee sat next to the small coffee maker. I turned on the water as it laboriously pumped out of the spigot and into the cup holder.

As I switched the machine on, the glorious smell of beans filled the small space as I shuffled to the bathroom. I turned on the water to take the first shower I’d had in days, though I really didn’t need it. I was always clean, always perfect, and it irked me. I stepped into the lukewarm water, breathing steadily as I gained the courage to submerge my head under its cooling wash.

Today, as it was every day, my soul was just as empty as it had been. I felt for my dream, trying to revisit the feeling of happiness that I’d imagined. As I struggled to muster it out of me I became frustrated and angry. I kicked the wall, infuriated at my life. My chest rose and fell as I breathed hard, forcing my needless anger to subside as I put my head under the water again, accepting my fate.

As the burning fury left me, melancholy took its place as I realized Edgar was gone. The familiar tingle I had felt toward him was faint, wherever he was it was too far away for me to feel. I shut off the water, unable to handle the temperature much longer. I grabbed for a towel and tiptoed back into the room, trying not to drip water on the floor. There was nothing worse than putting on fresh socks and then stepping in a shower puddle. I rummaged through my bag for some clean jeans and a shirt, finally finding my last pairs.

I quickly dressed and walked back to the kitchen. Grabbing the only cup from the empty cabinet, I jumped at the sudden sound of feverish knocking at my door. I put a hand to my heart and closed my eyes, wishing it weren’t Scott but knowing I wasn’t so lucky. I shuffled to the door annoyed, swinging it open with a look of contempt on my face.

“Hey!” he sang.

I rolled my eyes in annoyance, all I had wanted was some peace, “Oh, hey Scott.” My voice was filled with obvious disappointment.

“You want to work a little on that paper today for Professor Edgar?” My hopes that he would go away, at least until noon, were fading as he bounded into my cabin, invading my space.

“Uh…” I watched as he began searching the whole room like an excited dog, “Sure.”

“Wow this place is totally cool, you’re lucky.”

His energy was making me nervous. I watched him as he walked toward my bedside table, reaching for my framed letter, “Hey!” I yelped, lunging toward him and grabbing his shoulders, distracting him by twisting his body around and plopping him on the bed, “Just sit, ok?”

He looked at me with a happy smile as I walked back to the kitchen and grabbed my coffee to take the first sip I’d been longing for.

“So what do you think about the raven?” he asked, bouncing like a child on my bed as he sat there, “What’s your theory?”

I thought for a moment about what could possibly sound logical. “He probably just got here by boat, some cruise line or something,” I blurted carelessly. Or by magic, which was what I was beginning to believe.

Scott nodded, contemplating my theory, “Yeah that’s good.” He looked to the ceiling, “My theory is he was brought here by smugglers. What do you think? Sound relevant enough to convince him?”

I gave him a confident look, “Oh yeah, I think so.”

Scott’s eyes dropped to his lap, “So,” he paused, “I was sort of wondering…”

I leaned against the counter, cringing to myself at the predictable question that was coming next. I knew it was only a matter of time, especially after seeing how the nurse had looked at us.

“So I was just wondering if you wanted to maybe, you know, go for a hike? Have dinner with me tonight?” The way he said it let me know it wasn’t a normal invite and I squeezed my eyes shut in disdain. As I feared, he was looking for more meaning from our friendship. I looked at him with pathetic eyes as he fidgeted with his hands, looking down into his lap and averting my gaze.

My heart sank and I felt exceedingly guilty, “Oh uh…”

He looked up at me, and for the first time, I think he finally got it. “Oh yeah I know, just thought, you know.” He smiled bleakly.

“I’m sorry Scott,” I paused, unable to formulate exactly what to tell him, he was my friend and I liked it that way, “It’s just that, I was an orphan and I’ve never had friends before…” I trailed off, hoping he’d take that bit of information and accept that we’d never date.

“Is it Professor Edgar?” His comment was bold and knowing.

He had taken me by surprise I looked at him alarmed and I’m sure my face said it all.

A sweet smile grew across his face, “Well,” he paused as he re-grouped, “Then I guess that’s cool.” He stood and walked toward me, “Friends are a good thing.” His beady eyes were blinking with love and I suddenly felt like throwing myself off a cliff for being so mean.

I took another sip of my coffee, thankful he’d accepted our friendship, “I just would hate for things to get weird, you know?” I was pleading with him.

He nodded as he gave me a silly overcompensating smile that said he was ok. “Well, what about breakfast though, no harm there,” he asked lightly, his mood shifting.

I gave him an empty smile, putting my coffee down and grabbing his hand, “Perfect, let’s do that.”

I playfully yanked him out the door, still trying to make myself feel less like the bad guy for not liking him. As we walked to breakfast I thought about Edgar, and I wondered where he was. The feeling of separation was strange, as though now that we were close, we were never supposed to be apart. It just all felt so sudden, so out of the blue, like love at first sight or something goofy like that.

Scott bounded along as though nothing had happened. I was hoping this time he’d finally understand and quit hitting on me. We opened the door to the cafeteria and I glanced around in my attempt to maybe help him find a date, thinking then, he’d really give me my space and also forgive me for being such a cold hearted jerk.

I wasn’t much of a matchmaker, well not at all, but it was worth a try. I felt so sisterly to him, and not to mention responsible. We grabbed our food and took the same table as always. I scanned the room, my eyes meeting one mean face after another.

“So Scott,” I ventured, noticing the lonely girl to my right and just a few tables over. I wasn’t really sure where I was going with this, but it felt like the right solution, “How about that girl over there, sitting all alone? She’s sure cute, huh?”

He blushed and I knew I had caught him off guard. “Yeah,” he shoveled food into his mouth in avoidance.

“Oh come on, I know you were just asking me because you’re lonely.” I stared at him while he chewed in defiance.

He looked hurt but also seemed to be considering what I’d said as he glanced toward the girl. She was relatively cute for being a granola eater, with auburn hair and glasses that nicely framed her face.

“Go right now, it will be easy, invite her to eat with us,” I urged him on, playfully manipulating his malleable mind.

His timid eyes watched her as she ate her food, “I guess I could.” A look of confidence flashed across his face. He finished chewing and wiped his mouth, looking to me for approval.

I gave him a stern glare, giving him a slight nudge “Go,” I whispered eagerly.

He stood up and smoothed his lame Boy Scout shirt over his cargo pants and straightened his glasses. He walked over in his typical awkward fashion and stood before her and I watched in amazement as they began to talk. I couldn’t hear what he said but she suddenly smiled and looked to me with gracious eyes. I watched her stand and they walked back to our table together. I was speechless as I shamelessly gawked, amazed that I’d accomplished such a social feat. They approached me with happy grins and pink cheeks, a part of me wishing I could be happy about this moment too.

“This is Sarah,” Scott was beaming, “She’s very grateful for the invite.”

I gave her my kindest fake smile, “Hi Sarah, you just looked so alone over there.”

She exuded the same hyper energy as Scott and I was proud to have put this together, first Mother Earth and now expert matchmaker.

“Oh thanks,” she beamed, “I was starting to think everyone here was cold and mean.” Her happiness was almost sickening and I couldn’t stop myself from envying her.

Scott moved his tray over to make room for Sarah at the table. When they finally sat, they both kept eyeing each other like school kids on Valentine’s Day.

“So what is your name?” she asked with eyes full of youth and innocence.

I stared in disbelief, finding myself suddenly blessed with not just one, but two accidental friends. “Estella,” I said with confidence, making the initiative to stick my hand out to shake hers.

She grabbed it and wobbled it with surprising vigor. She was disgustingly perfect. “That’s a beautiful name. Estella.” She said it as though trying it on for size. “My mom was really uncreative,” she gave a discontented face.

I winced, just what I needed, another mom comment sending me into internal turmoil, “Thanks.”

Scott was beaming at her, almost on the brink of gawking. I gave him a stern look and he snapped out of his awkward trance.

“Oh, uh,” he paused, it was like love at first sight and I was just a glimmer in the rearview, “Well, I sure think Sarah is a pretty name.”

His cheesy smile didn’t impress me but it sure sent Sarah into rolls of giggles and blushing.

I watched them as they began to talk, and suddenly, I felt like a third wheel and I liked it. I stayed long enough to be polite before strategically excusing myself. The love that was blooming was all I could handle and I quickly snuck out of the room.

My pace was brisk as I walked back to my cabin, excited for the solitude. I planned out a day of reading, laundry, and thinking. I was determined to accumulate as much info as I could before Edgar returned. I needed to collect on his background so that I was certain I wasn’t getting in over my head, or getting myself in serious danger.

Later that afternoon, however, I found myself in serious debate. I’d promised Edgar I’d stay out of the woods but today had dragged on longer than I’d liked and I was bored. What did it matter anyways? He was gone. And like he said, the raven was just a weird sort of coincidence and he was dead anyways. I’d lived eighteen years without any problems, and in much more dangerous places than here, surely.

I was biting my nails, looking out the window of my cabin toward the woods and weighing my rebellious side. I couldn’t handle it anymore, this was my Saturday, my day to finally explore this place on my own. My nerves twitched, there was a voice inside me that said ‘no’ but I forcibly muted it, shoving it away like dirty laundry.

“Screw it,” I said out loud, grabbing my coat and opening my door, conclusively righteous with my stern grip on the handle.

The air today was less obtrusive. At breakfast I had noticed a distinct change in the weather, but I was happy for it. I was used to the constant rain of Seattle and at times I even liked it, so today, the somewhat cooler weather was nice. I stepped down onto the stoop to put on my boots, noticing there was also a strong steady breeze as it fell hard on my face. I stood with determination, exhaling hard as I took off up the path and into the woods.

I passed the hut again, this time turning to the right as I decided the meadow seemed far too familiar, not to mention still a little scary. I looked behind me with wary eyes. As before, it still felt as though someone was there, but as the wind came cold and fast up my back, I realized it was just its presence within the forest. There were large droves of sage dotting the floor and their scent was like heaven as it laced across my face and through my hair. The ferns rustled in the wind, their curling tips bowing to the floor in soft arches.

I walked on the path for what felt like a few miles. So far, nothing had jumped out at me and I fell into a comfortable rhythm. The path looked well traveled and cared for, which was a lot better than the somewhat rustic path to the meadow. The fact that this was the trail more heavily visited gave me a sense of security. Bad things were less likely to happen here.

My hands were pushed into my pockets, the wind chilling them despite their cover. I was humming to myself, something Heidi had hummed to me every night since the day she took me in. The plants absorbed my voice as they leaned toward me, the grass curling out as though kissed by the sunless sky. My bones shook as the wind whipped through the evergreens again, humming back to me like the ocean.

Suddenly, something very large and gray, almost the size of a small plane, flew like a silent cloud through the trees in my blind spot. I halted, my feet slipping on the gravel and my humming becoming choked in my throat. I looked around but nothing was there. The swirling gusts through the pines disabled my hearing and left me senseless and blind as I tried to listen. I stood there for a few minutes, but nothing happened and so I carefully pressed on, continuing to twist my head from side to side as the hair on my arms stood, my sense of sight and smell now alert.

I began humming again, though now, there was a noticeable shake to my voice. The path began to twist and a peak of rocks jut like knives skyward just a few feet ahead. Looking around, I was able to spy through an opening in the trees, catching the glimmer of the lake below. I tried to position myself in accordance with the dam at the head of the lake but I found it more difficult than I’d thought as I looked around, lost.

Giving up, I began forward again, the soft rushing of water now acutely audible in the distance. I wound myself around a large tree, stepping in a deep mud puddle that was hiding under a grove of ferns. I cursed to myself as I stamped off the dirt, looking at my boots in anger. As I inspected the messy damage a large shadow dove overhead, completely shading the ground around me and I whipped my head up, seeing a group of branches residually shaking above the spot where I stood.

My breathing quickened, dragging hard in my throat. “Hello?” I asked, but as expected, nothing answered.

Glowering at myself for being so jumpy, I quickly decided that it was nothing more than the wind in the trees. For good measure, however, I still sprinted a ways down the path, looking toward the canopy as the branches churned in anger above me. I knew I was probably just being paranoid, and I also knew that turning around wasn’t necessarily a bad idea, but my curiosity as to where the rushing sound of water was coming from was much more dominant.

My pace slowed to a walk as I caught my breath, the rushing sound even louder now, like a turbine engine on a plane as it flew overhead. My mind briefly thought of Edgar. If he found out where I was, he would be infuriated for sure. The way he had warned me to stay out of the woods was undeniably stern, but what did I really have to lose? As I rolled the idea around in my mind, I hardly noticed as the trail ended and I found myself on the edge of a very large cliff, a panoramic view of both the lake and the glacier in front of me.

I gasped. The beauty was more amazing than it was from below. I looked to my left in utter astonishment. There, roughly twenty feet away, a river threw itself with ferocity off the cliff above me and plummeted untamed to the lake below. As I stood there, deafened by nature’s wrath upon the hillside, I became mystified by its sheer size and the vertigo that began tickling my mind. I could feel the rapids booming through my chest, the weightless water falling freely like a rollercoaster.

There was another sudden gust of wind and a cloud of mist blew across my face. I winced from the glacial chill of it against my fair skin, turning away from the falls and shielding my face.

As I opened my eyes over my shoulder, I was surprised to see that there was something there, but the water that had hit my face had blurred my vision. It was large and grey, glowing as though lit by the sun. It was about the height of a human, except with large shoulders which were somewhat distorted in an awkward manner. As quick as I could manage, I tried to wipe the mist away but when I was finally able to see again, whatever it was had gone. A strong gust fell across my face as I stepped backward, almost so far that I would have fallen over the cliff. I steadied myself and blinked hard, grabbing my chest as my heart threatened to stop.

I felt my nerves pounding in my chest, reminding me that I shouldn’t be here. Bringing my hand to my mouth I thought about what to do. It was hard to deny that something was indeed following me and my stubbornness finally faltered as I instantly regretted leaving the college. I should have listened to Edgar. Adrenaline took over, pulsing through my body and controlling my limbs as I took off at a run back toward the college.

My legs were pounding the forest floor as the mud splashed out all over my jeans, my mind now fleeting as I heard something rustling through the branches behind and above me. I glanced up as I saw another shadow being cast around me, but as my eyes finally met the location of whatever or whoever it was, it had shot further skyward and only a large flutter of grey was visible between the open patches of sky. I put my hand to my chest out of fear but there was no choking feeling or fogging mind. I shut my eyes and pumped my feet harder, my thighs burning and my throat raw.

I heard voices ahead of me as I forced my eyes open again, relieved to see two people on the path before me. As I flailed toward them, they turned. Out of breath, I was surprised to see Scott and Sarah looking at me horrified. I urged my body to slow to a hurried walk as I nearly bowled right through them, their eyes wide with astonishment.

“Estella!” Sarah gasped, “What’s going on?”

I struggled to catch my breath as Scott put his hand on my back. My side was cramping now and I kept looking back into the woods but there was still nothing.

“There…” I was heaving hard, “There was…Something…chasing…” I let my voice trail off. Scott and Sarah were looking at me horrified, their lips tied in utter disbelief.

Scotts face was the most horrified as he stared deep into my eyes, “Was it a bear?”

This was absurd, how can a bear fly through the trees? I rolled what I’d seen over and over in my head before responding, “Uh,” I was still trying to catch my breath, still eyeing the forest behind me with suspicion, “Uh, yeah.” I breathed. It was a lie, but as far as level of danger went, it was probably the same. I needed to get them out of here, and fast.

Their eyes both got very wide and each hooked an arm through my elbows. “Maybe we should go,” Sarah’s voice was shaking.

They helped me forward, and soon, we were briskly walking. I winced through the pain in my side, struggling to remember what I’d witnessed but I couldn’t connect the pieces. It was unlike anything I’d seen before, large, quiet, and fast.

We finally emptied out of the trailhead and I watched as Sarah’s face relaxed into a look of relief.

“Thank goodness,” she gasped as her face curled into a thankful smile.

I couldn’t help but also feel immensely relieved.

Scott looked at me laughing, “Remind me not to be your friend anymore, ok?” He was joking, but a part of his statement made a lot of sense, “You’re a magnet for trouble Elle. No offense, but I have never felt more afraid for my life until I met you.”

“You have no idea,” I whispered under my breath. I had never been in fear like this either. I looked at Sarah’s face, feeling horrible that on her first day meeting me, I’d already managed to go crazy and put her in danger. I wondered exactly what she thought of me.

Sarah and Scott were laughing now and I rolled my eyes. I wondered how it felt to be them, thinking they’d just narrowly escaped a bear when really, it was something else, maybe even something far worse.

Scott looked at me, smiling, “Well, what should we do now?”

“Monopoly?” Sarah asked with careless eyes.

My heart was still racing. The fear in my bones wasn’t yet gone and I didn’t feel the threat was over. How could they be thinking of stupid board games when there are weird things happening in the woods around us? I desperately wished for Edgar to be here right now, I needed his reassurance and his answers.

“Estella? Are you up for a game?” Scott looked to me with a questioning glare.

My eyes darted between the two gleeful faces, “Uh,” I paused, my body still shaking, “I think I may lie down.”

Scott laughed, “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea, besides, you’re kind of starting to look faint again.”

Sarah giggled and I nodded, “Yeah, I think you’re right, thanks though.”

“Maybe next time?” Scott and Sarah looked at each other with a glint of relief. I knew they didn’t want me tagging along anyways.

“Yeah, sounds great,” I replied, faking a shaky smile.

They waved as they turned and began walking down the hill. I let out one last terrified breath before running into my cabin.

I slammed the door hard behind me, cursing at it for not having a lock. For good measure I rushed to the chair that sat next to the window, yanking it toward the door and propping it under the handle. For a moment I felt mildly safe, though, when it came to strange ghosts or phenomenon, as I had watched on TV, they could technically still walk through walls.

Finding there was little more I could do, I sat on my bed, figuring there was no way to control this. Whatever it was that was out there had seemed harmless, and besides, it hadn’t attacked even though it had ample chances to. I shuddered, all my life I’d thought I was the only monster, but now, it seemed I was just one of many. Sighing, my heart rate finally began to decline as I mustered up the bravery to get over it. I grabbed a book from the floor, hoping to delve my mind into a trance of reading.

TRUTH

When I woke in the morning I was surprised that I felt rested and calm, finding I had slept rather well considering the events of yesterday. After I left Sarah and Scott, things had become considerably less dramatic as I read my book and managed to relax. It was strange to be able to focus on reading. I was so used to the screaming of foster brothers and sisters and the crashing of cars, always pulling my attention away during a climactic scene.

Falling asleep had been easier than expected and my dreams had been blank, nothing like the night before. There were no strange visits from Edgar, or anything else for that matter, which was a welcomed relief. The incident by the waterfall began to feel like a hallucination, my mind’s way of coping with all the change.

I sat up with a burst of excitement, remembering that today Edgar was due back at the college and I was eager to find him and continue the questioning.

I had decided as I fell asleep last night that I’d keep the incident in the woods a secret. It was stupid to compromise our somewhat interesting and budding relationship by showing Edgar he couldn’t trust me. I was sure that in time, the answers I wanted would also find their way to the surface.

To my regret, I hadn’t been able to dig up any dirt on him yesterday as I’d planned. The grey figure in the woods had stolen my attention away from Edgar, bringing me a whole new set of things to ponder over with relentless distraction. Today however, I had a plan. It had occurred to me that the nurse was English, not that being English gave her much insight on ravens, but the raven that had been in the meadow had agreeably been from the same ethnic region. She had also seemed like a veteran here, and her comment about having other students visit her infirmary after bad encounters with Edgar had me curious.

It was a perfect coincidence that it was time my stitches were removed from my arm. I had peeked under the bandages the day after the incident, only to find that it was already nearly healed, another strange thing about my existence. Ever since I can remember, I’ve healed very fast. I had broken my arm in the first grade when a kid named Andrew had teased and pushed me when the sandbox I was playing in turned to a flower box. A week later, my arm was already healed. But naturally, the doctors made me keep the cast on for another three weeks despite my whining. They were simply dumbfounded by the phenomenon and to my dismay, they wrote me into some stupid medical mystery journal.

I jumped from bed with speed and went to the bathroom to wash my face. As I looked out the small window, I noticed it was a rather dreary day. The windows had fogged and I could feel a noticeable chill seeping through them as small drops of rain ran like tears down the glass. The wind from yesterday seemed to have brought the bad weather with it.

I got dressed at a quick pace in anticipation for Scott’s arrival but as the morning drew on, I was surprised that he never came. I sighed with a hint of relief but also sadness at the fact that he and Sarah had probably hit it off playing Monopoly and I’d likely lost him as a constant friend and sidekick. Regardless, I now had a lot of free time to figure out my now complex life.

After wasting half the morning with thinking, I finally emerged from the cabin, driven by hunger and an eagerness to gather my info. I strode down the path with a strong veracity toward the cafeteria. Most of the students had already come and gone so I walked straight to the counter and grabbed two apples, figuring I’d save one for later.

As I chomped through the fresh crisp skin I walked back outside, chewing my apple in sync with my footsteps on the crunching gravel. It was somewhat disturbing that I was familiar with the location of the infirmary, especially since I’d never arrived there fully conscious.

As I walked through the door, Nurse Dee looked up with the same happy smile as always, “Well hello there Miss.”

“Hello Miss Dee.” I was trying to be as pleasing as possible so that she would allow me to pick her brain.

“All healed already?” She gave me a perplexed and doubtful look.

I tried to adopt Scott’s same cheery demeanor. “I think I am,” I tried to sing in a harmonized tone. All she had to do was look me up on the internet. The extensive medical paperwork on me would explain it all.

“My,” she paused as she wheeled her chair toward me, grabbing my arm with a delicate touch and taking a peak below the white bandage, “You are!” She sounded surprised and I wasn’t exactly shocked to hear it.

I laughed, pushing my acting abilities to their limits.

She slowly began to unroll the bandages as she hummed under her breath. I worked to gain my confidence, thinking of what I could use to break the ice.

“Miss Dee,” I began, “You remember when I came in here the first time don’t you?”

She chuckled like you’d imagine Santa Claus would, “Oh dear I don’t think I could forget.”

I thought about the severity of her response, “Was I the first to be in such bad shape?”

She chuckled again, “Oh dear, you weren’t the first, but definitely the worst off.”

I took my first fact to heart. There was something different about how I’d reacted that day. The shortness of breath and the choking feeling in my chest was not an anxiety attack, I knew that, but then if I were the first to be that bad it was likely the other students had just hyperventilated. Wimps.

I nodded as my mind continued to roll the thoughts in my head, hoping to find something as I continued to dig deeper, “So how long has the professor been here?”

She kept her gaze locked on my arm as she now worked to remove the opaque tape that was covering the black stitches, “Oh, since the college opened, about four years ago.”

I was a little shocked. “Wow, so then, was he just a student? He must have been rather young.”

She tilted her head in thought, “No.” She slowly pulled back the tape but the scar no longer hurt. “He was a professor then too,” she laughed a little to herself, “I always tell him he’ll never look forty, he loves it when I say that, always gives him a laugh.” She smiled with a hint of adoration.

“Hm,” I considered the fact, it was as though she was telling me he’d never aged, but that was impossible. “So do you know him well?” I pushed deeper.

“Oh yeah, the whole staff knows everyone pretty well. We’re all rather discreet and independent though, he usually likes to be alone in the lab a lot, and he lives in the adjoining apartment he had built.” She began to snip at each stitch with a skilled hand, “Wow miss, you really did heal fast. I just can’t get over it.”

I respectfully ignored her comment. “So is he always so…” I paused, “Mysterious?”

She stared me in the eyes, a knowing look crossing her face. “Oh,” she was struggling to comprehend, “He’s different, yes. But I figure, everyone has their private things, I try to avoid asking and he never seems to volunteer anyways. So, even if I did ask, I doubt he’d really give me an answer.”

Her response was vague but not suggestive that she was hiding anything, more disturbed that she didn’t know. She did strike me as the type to gossip, always eager to know everything. I moved on from Edgar, now further curious why he was here in the woods.

“So,” my voice was inquiring I wanted to figure out more about the area, things not necessarily typed into a scientific journal or ranger map, “Things are so beautiful here aren’t they?”

“Mmmm,” she cooed, “Isn’t it magnificent?”

“Yeah,” she was making this too easy, “almost magical. I wonder why there are no legends written about these mountains.” I paused, watching her face as I waited for her to take my bait. My breath measured as it passed my anxious lips.

She looked up to me, a surprised and excited appearance on her face, “Oh Miss,” she cried, “But there are tons!” She smiled and looked back to my arm.

“Really?” I asked with loaded interest, acting far too intrigued, “Like what? I’d love to hear one.”

She smiled with glee. “Well,” she snipped another stitch, “my favorite is the story about the lakes.”

I tilted my head and pressed my brows into a curious mask, acting like the perfect listener.

“As the legend goes, the lakes here were created by magic,” she gave me a dramatic glance, “That is why the lake is named Diablo Lake, or Devil Lake.”

My brow furled in intense concentration and interest.

“They say that hundreds of years ago there was a fight here, a fight between two powerful beings. They say that these two being were devils, though some refer to them as angels.” She yanked out the last stitch, reaching in her drawer and pulling out a scar cream I knew I’d never need, my skin would be flawless in just days.

I continued to stare at her and she smiled, proud of her power over me at that moment.

“Some say they were fighting over gold, some say power, and other skeptics claim they fought over souls.”

Her words hung in my head, mystifying my imagination. I touched my chest, finding it an eerie coincidence that mine was left soulless.

“They fought so hard that each place one threw the other down it indented the ground, creating the tall peaks and deep lakes you see now, and of course the color,” the way she said it told me that was the most important part, “They say the color was that of their most prized possession.”

I narrowed my eyes in anticipation but her story had stopped. I sat back, allowing that last sentence to roll in my mind. “Then what was their most prized possession?” I asked perplexed.

She shrugged, her chuckle shaking the collection of bottles on her desk, “That’s the mystery, what’s a good legend without unanswered questions?” Nonchalance laced her voice.

I stayed silent, unsure of what to say.

Miss Dee looked at me in a mothering way, “Oh but don’t you fret and lose sleep over it dear, no one has ever figured it out, not in hundreds of years.” She patted me on the leg as she rolled her chair back toward her desk.

I pulled my shirt back over the faint scar and stood, “Well thanks Miss Dee, for the wonderful story.”

“Oh my pleasure Miss,” her chubby cheeks curling into a glorious smile, “Come back soon!”

I smiled one last agonizing time before closing the door behind me, releasing a pained breath of relief as my mouth resumed its melancholy pose. I hadn’t expected to gain so much information so soon and I struggled to file it away for further reflection.

I found myself now compelled to go back to the lab. Something was there, something tugging at my mind as though it had belonged to me. I walked down the corridor and into the courtyard where I stared at it for a long while from across the path, contemplating what to do. I pursed my lips and clenched my hands at my side, at last stepping forward as I eyed the handle of the lab like prey. As I reached the main doors I tugged at them as though I knew what I was doing but there was no give.

Only mildly discouraged, I rounded the building, determined to find an entrance. For the most part, the lab was rectangular, but the small jot of architecture suggested that his office resided behind those particular walls.

I rushed toward the first window, disappointed by the blinds that blocked my inquiring view. I tested the latch and found it refused to release as it shook against the locked clasp. Becoming frantic, I moved around the corner, looking for the next window. My mind blurred as I lost all composure. I grabbed the handle in selfish desire, but it too refused to allow me entrance.

I leaned against the wall, sinking myself to the ground in surrender as I felt my heart pounding inside my chest like a lunatic. My breathing was fast but shallow, adrenaline pulsing through my veins like a drug. I urged myself to recuperate and gain my composure. What was I doing?

As the world returned around me, a sudden deep and throaty laugh erupted from the woods and I felt a lump rise in my stomach as I looked toward the direction of the sound. My heart rate did not quicken as I had projected, but rather beat steadily at the familiar pitch it always had. A tall figure walked from the dark trees and I hurried to stand, now feeling my cheeks blush a vibrant red, my notions affirmed.

“Do you think I’d make it that easy?” Edgar’s malicious laugh echoed across the lake as the light of day fell upon his face.

I began to blush horribly.

“Don’t be ashamed Elle,” he walked toward me, his stride confident. “I can understand your hunger, your desperation to know who I am. I’m afraid I haven’t let you know too much about me yet, but I promise that when we get the time, I will.”

I stared at him, terrified he’d be angry with me for trying to break in, but instead finding him understanding of my desperate position.

“You think I should be angry with you don’t you? But I’m not.” I looked at him in shock. He was reading my facial expressions too well. “Like I said,” his eyes were glowing, “I understand.”

He approached me, bringing his face close to mine, his breath hitting my cheeks and tickling my skin.

“Aren’t you going to say hello?” A smile curled across his face.

Disgust flashed past my eyes as I brushed away from him, cautious to still honor his space.

“No,” I spat, walking toward the courtyard at a brisk and determined pace.

I heard his heavy steps behind me, gaining ground until he overtook my stride and stepped in front of me, halting me in my path.

“Look,” his voice was soft and eloquent, mesmerizing me like a sort of gas. “I’m not here to hurt you, I told you that.” He smirked as though he found humor in everything he said, “I really do miss your fiery attitude though.”

“What do you know about my fiery attitude?” A gruff snort escaped my lips as I walked around him, again disgusted and confused by his oblique remark.

He laughed, “I know you’ll never do what I ask, that’s for sure.” His voice was trailing behind me, “How was your weekend?” he teased.

My heart sank and my pace slowed. He must have known I’d gone into the forest.

He caught up to me again and halted me, “Ok, so I messed up,” he kept his hands shoved in his pockets, his shoulders raised, “I keep forgetting that you don’t know me at all, just…” his voice trailed off.

My eyes blazed at him and I noticed something give behind his marbled stare. A breeze blew off the lake and I shivered, a bit of rain riding on its tail.

“Listen,” he pleaded, “Let me start over. Let’s just get to know each other. Ok?”

We stood there, our bodies locked in some sort of staring match but I continued my stubborn silence. The look on his face fell solemn and I felt the deepness of his gaze grab at my attention.

“Please?” His face became torn and I wondered how it was that I could make such a powerful man falter.

I sighed, giving in. “Fine,” my voice was curt and void of emotion but the position of authority was a welcomed relief, I finally had the upper hand.

A smile curled across his face, leaving my heart in painful longing.

Something inside me fought to remain rational, to stay away from Edgar and leave. I had never been full of this type of emotion, and I didn’t understand what to do. It was almost as though he had a way to invoke things I never thought possible, as though he saw right through me like an old friend. I shook my head, my battling mind unable to accept the situation.

“Then what is all this about?” I spat, relishing my stubbornness.

He shrugged. Falling back to my side as I slowly began to walk forward.

I rolled my eyes and tried again, “What is your deal?” My voice was shrill.

He looked at me, raising one eyebrow at my surprising attitude. “Well I’m not that easy,” he chuckled, “Why don’t we just start with names. I’m Edgar, Edgar Poe.”

A sharp breath escaped my lips, “Yeah, very funny, you think I’m really going to believe that? What, you’re related to the famous nineteenth century poet?”

His eyebrows shot up in defiance. “No really! That’s my name,” he shrugged, “Than what’s yours?” His face seemed to say, ‘check mate.’

I rolled my eyes, shrugging him off, “Whatever.”

I had never really had a last name. I was an orphan after all. I knew my first name had been Estella because of the letter my mother left when she had abandoned me, but leaving me without a last name had felt cruel, as though I’d never find where home was, or who my parents were.

He gave me a sarcastic grunt as though finding my pain of interest.

I pressed my brows together in irritation, “Well at any rate, as you know, I’m Estella,” I paused. “Estella Smith,” I cringed at my lack of originality.

He laughed, “Well then Estella Smith, nice to meet you.”

The way he said Smith suggested he knew I was making it up. I took note of the fact that he made no effort to shake hands. Figuring this had something to do with the fact he couldn’t get too close, though I still didn’t understand how or why that made sense.

We were now halfway up the hill toward my cabin and I became aware of the fact that our chat was almost over, but I was still eager to learn more.

“So,” he paused, and I could see the mischief returning to his eyes. “Are you happy to meet me?”

I gave him a wary glare, “What kind of question is that?” I saw his face sink and I suddenly felt bad. I took a deep breath and regrouped, now attempting to be civil, “I guess it depends on what you classify as happy. That’s not really a feeling I have a whole lot of experience with.”

He snorted, “Yeah.” He rustled his hands in his pockets, “I suppose you’re right, so then are you…” I watched him as he tried to find the right words, “at least relieved I’m here?”

He had found the right emotion, and I gave him a timid nod in response.

A content smile filled his face as my heart rate quickened. “Well then at least that’s good right?” He winked at me as I eyed the woods behind him, still wondering if he knew I had gone there.

We had arrived at the cabin, and as expected, his stride slowed to a halt.

He turned to face me, “So, now I have a question for you. I don’t want to be too presumptuous but…” he was confident and unfaltering.

I gave him an accusing stare.

“I’m not really the type to have the boyfriend talk, but you know. I suppose, if you’re up for it, Why not?” he asked, but his eyes looked as though he already knew my answer.

This felt cheesy, and I wondered if this was how it always was when a guy asks a girl to date. There was a sudden air of awkwardness between us and I gulped. Making this official felt like I was signing a contract, bounding myself to someone I wasn’t quite convinced was completely safe, or that I even really knew. There was also the obvious fact that, though he seemed close to my age, he was still my professor.

“I uh…” I ran my foot through the gravel.

He smiled. Somehow content with my somewhat shocked reaction, “Well then good.” He nodded his head once, as though affirming the answer I never gave.

I snapped my eyes up to meet his, “But I didn’t even…”

He cut me off, “Yeah but I know your answer, even if you don’t.”

I glared at him, refusing to give him any sort of gratification.

He chuckled, “So then I guess it’s goodbye for now, I’ve said enough.”

I felt my enthusiasm slow as he spoke those words. My face sank, I wanted to be around him, I did, and so what? A boyfriend was harmless, or so it had always seemed to the other girls.

“But,” he continued, “I’ll be back later.” He winked at me again with one glowing eye, pulling his glasses out of his pocket and pulling them over his smooth face in one fluid movement.

I was left speechless as I stubbornly tried to give him a cold stare.

“Oh come on,” he mused, “What’s life without a little unpredictability, a little adventure? I won’t let you down.”

His sarcastic grin made my knees weak. He turned on his heel, giving me a quick wave as he took off down the hill, leaving me hanging on his final words. I stood there stunned for a moment, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Did that mean that I was his girlfriend now? I was completely flustered as I finally turned and stormed into my cabin.

I threw my bag down on the bed as the extra apple I’d gotten rolled onto the floor. I picked it up as I felt my stomach grumble with hungry anger. Even though I’d just eaten an apple my body was craving a greasy pizza, which I was certain they wouldn’t have here.

As I paced the tiny room, I finally gave in, figuring the cafeteria would at least be able to serve something that could distract me, even if it wasn’t food. Anything that could take my mind off Edgar and the way I’d felt in his presence. I grumbled to myself, walking back out the door and slamming it behind me.

As I pulled open the large doors to the cafeteria, a shrill screech erupted from the corner of the room and I closed my eyes, praying it wasn’t meant for me. Opening them again, I looked in the direction of the disturbance and my notions were affirmed. I saw Sarah jumping up in excitement and no part of it took me by surprise.

“Elle!” she yelled as everyone in the room turned to look at either her or me.

I nervously looked around the room, baring my teeth in an awkward attempt at looking cheerful as my cheeks flushed in utter embarrassment. I rushed over to where Scott and Sarah sat as I kept my head ducked in my hopes that people would quit staring.

“Hey Elle,” Sarah sang again as I got close.

“Shh, Sarah I’m right here, there’s no need to scream,” I put my hands up to calm her.

She gave me a confused look as though she hadn’t realized and to my surprise, she was eating a piece of pizza from a large round in the middle of the table. “You want some?” she asked, apparently noticing the drool that was collecting in my mouth.

“Yes!” I hissed, “You read my mind!” I gave her a thankful wink and her look of confusion turned to one of pride.

“So Elle,” Scott chimed in, “How was the rest of your evening, anymore life threatening stories?”

I pursed my lips and gave him an evil stare, “No.” My mouth was full of what I was trying to identify as tofu cheese, but still, as long as I pretended it was real, that was all that mattered at this point.

He laughed, “I was just kidding.” He gave me a gentle nudge on the shoulder.

I swallowed. “Oh I know,” I added, “I was just giving you a hard time. So what did you guys do?”

They eyed each other and smiled and I deduced I probably didn’t need all the details.

“Well,” Scott began to blush, “She beat me at Monopoly, that’s about all.” The crack in his voice suggested otherwise and I felt my stomach lurch at the nauseating thought of them engaged in any sort of intimacy.

“I could never stand Monopoly,” I was trying to ease the mood, regretting the fact I’d even asked. “It’s too long, and there are too many rules,” I snorted as I grabbed another slice of what I’d finally identified as whole-wheat tofu-pepperoni pizza.

“Yeah,” I could tell Scott was working to change the subject, “So are you going to tell anyone about the bear you saw?”

I froze. The truth was there was no bear, but technically you’re supposed to report sightings so that other hikers are aware. “Uh,” I shoved a huge bite in my mouth, chewing and nodding in compliance.

He smiled, “Oh good because if you weren’t up to it, I would have done it for you.”

“Yeah or I could,” Sarah chimed in.

They were like twins or something.

I waved them away, “Oh no, I got it handled.” The last thing I needed was for them to tell on me and then for Edgar to find out I was out there.

He laughed, “Yeah I suppose Professor Edgar is the one who handles that anyways, you know, might give you a chance to ask him out.”

I blushed, my mouth shut in defiance.

“I’m just kidding Elle, calm down, you look absolutely terrified.” He nudged me and I choked.

Sarah gave us both a strange look, “Estella has a thing for Professor Edgar?” She crinkled her nose. “I mean, how old is he?”

My eyebrows perked, I knew the answer to that, “Oh, apparently he’s eighteen or nineteen, I asked him.”

Scott chuckled in disbelief, “You actually asked him that?” His face was turning red with laughter. “Elle, you really do have a death wish. I’m surprised he didn’t decapitate you then and there.”

This time it was me that shoved Scott.

“Hey now,” he chortled, “No need to result to violence.”

They were both giggling now and I gave them a playful look of disregard.

Sarah caught her breath, “How does that work, he’s been here for like, five years.” She began counting on her fingers under her breath.

I shrugged, “Good genes I guess. He must be the long lost discoverer of the fountain of youth.” I was proud of the fact I’d actually made a joke, my first in history.

They both laughed as I said it, and deep in my soul, I felt the same flicker try to ignite my happiness.

SOUL MATE

Later that evening, I found myself pacing in my silent room. The desperate suspense was irritating and I had wished that for a moment, I hadn’t left Scott and Sarah so soon. I flipped through a few books, but found that wasn’t helping as my irritation grew, and my attention faltered. At dusk, I finally gave up and walked outside as the stars began to emerge.

The continuing cool weather signaled that fall had officially descended on the college and I was amazed by how fast it had all changed over one weekend. The mountains were dotted with orange where the occasional leafy tree emerged amongst the evergreens, but considering the cruel winters, there weren’t many trees like that. I looked at the lake down the hill as the dawning moon lit a long stripe of blue green across the surface. As I watched the rippling water, I thought about the story Nurse Dee had told me about the color and how it was created, wondering now, if something like that were even possible.

A part of me craved Edgar’s companionship, but part of me couldn’t help but feel cautious toward him. I needed to figure out the purpose behind his need to be so obtrusive, so forward. My thoughts were relentlessly tickling my mind with the idea he was a sort of magic devil. Surely he was no angel. He was too dark for that.

A strong wind blew then, and I noticed a familiar scent as it froze all my thoughts. I closed my eyes, trying to pinpoint its exact origin. It was something floral, yet warm, like spring would smell when the trees came back to life. I heard a few leaves blow past as I slowly opened my eyes. I jumped, grabbing my chest and gasping for air as Edgar now stood before me, appearing out of nowhere like a ghost.

“Hello,” he said in a peaceful voice.

I looked at him with alarming surprise as I swallowed a few times, calming myself.

He laughed again, “Sorry I keep sneaking up on you.”

I gave him a reproachful glare, “Maybe you should try creeping up with warning, like normal people do. Maybe even make some noise, footsteps are a good start, or take up whistling.”

He walked forward and sat down next to me on the porch, close enough to converse, but still an arms length away. “But then I’d be like normal people,” he said with a sly smirk, “and normal people are boring.”

His serene body language was strange. The way he moved was as though he’d harnessed the wind and yet with a possession of power that made me feel fragile in his presence. I crossed my arms and looked toward the darkened sky, thousands of stars now glowing above us through the crisp air.

Edgar sighed, “Beautiful aren’t they.” He drew in a heavy breath, closing his beautiful reflective eyes and drinking in the scent of the night.

I nodded, analyzing his movements.

He dropped his gaze to me. “So, since we are still getting to know one another,” a crooked smile crossed his face, he was enjoying the little game he’d started. “What do you think of me?”

I gave him an ominous glare, “Truthfully I think you’re dangerous.” I could tell my blunt remark took him off guard, stinging his ego.

He laughed. “Maybe,” he paused, “But not to you. Like I’ve told you already, I won’t ever hurt you.”

The way he said it sent chills down my spine. No matter how hard I tried to believe that he’d never hurt me, I just couldn’t. “What…” I paused to gather my swimming thoughts, “What was it the first time I saw you than? Why did I feel so…” I struggled to find the right words.

“Weak?” Edgar asked with knowing curiosity.

“Yeah,” I began to fidget with my shirt hem. “I felt so completely drained, and the pain,” I put my hand to my chest, “I felt like I was choking.”

His head gravely nodded, no spark of humor to his face, “It’s something between us, something powerful that I had to be prepared to control but couldn’t.”

My curiosity bore a hole through his face as I stared, hungry to know more, urging him to look me in the eyes, “Do you know what it is, this powerful thing between us?”

He shot his eyes toward me, their magnificence pulsing in my bones, “Yes, I do.” He was searching my face as though remembering something about it, “But, I’m not sure you’re ready to hear it just yet.”

Frustration blazed in my eyes. “You keep saying that, but why not?” A curt tone washed over my previously curious voice, “I need to know what I am. I can’t do this anymore.” It was times like this I’d wish I could cry.

Edgar looked shocked at my sudden depression and moved closer as I heard his jeans brush against the wood of the deck. I saw him looking at me from the corner of my eye and I noticed a deep sadness cross his face. For a moment he seemed to weigh his options, hesitating to make his next move. I heard him swallow as he reached toward my arm and my heart rate spiked. He halted for a moment as though he had made a mistake, but as my mind screamed for him to do it, his hand continued toward mine where he brushed one finger down the length of my palm. Holding my breath, I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect, but as a tear formed in my eye and rolled down my cheek, I felt an overwhelming sense of emotion fill my darkened soul.

I gasped, bringing one shaking hand to my face in astonishment. “What…” my throat was choked as he drew back and I shot my eyes to meet his, “How did you do that?” I was frantic, almost to the point of hysterical.

He smiled, “That’s what I want to tell you, but I don’t know how.”

I searched his face, “You know don’t you, you know how to make me feel.”

He shook his head, “No, I don’t. But I was hoping maybe you did. But apparently not.”

I furled my brow, “I don’t understand.” I reached a shaking hand toward him but he backed away.

“Elle, you don’t know what kind of power you possess over me, you will kill yourself if you aren’t careful,” his eyes were apologetic but adoring.

My gaze fell from his and I dropped my hand as the emotion in my soul faded. “But, you touched me,” I added, like a child.

“Yes,” he looked to the stars. “But it was hard. It takes a lot of self control for me to do that.”

I nodded in solemn compliance.

“You and I are opposites, of sorts. Like a battery. There is a positive end and a negative, but that doesn’t mean they go together without their flaws.” I hung on his words with thirst as he continued, “Our history goes far beyond all you know,” he watched my face for a reaction, “When I said we were the same age, I meant…”

He stopped, careful with his words as though trying not to shock me but I didn’t care anymore, life was worthless without my sense of happiness.

“Please Edgar, anything you can tell me.” His gaze fell to mine and I could see he was struggling to resist my desperation.

“It’s just that we’ve been here a long time, if not in body, then in soul. I deeply wish you could remember it all.” I saw the emptiness in his eyes, “But this is one outcome we had expected and it was a risk we had to take.”

I didn’t know exactly what his vague explanation meant or what “we” entailed, but I was certain for the first time I wasn’t feeling out of place, something about this moment felt like home.

“Then what are we?” I asked, rather bluntly.

A smile returned to his face. “Well,” I saw his imagination begin to grow as his eyes grew bright with thought. “Some used to call us witches,” he paused, watching the reaction on my face, “but the term seems cheesy, so I try not to use it. And there are some that called us the devil, and others, more pertaining to you, the angels. I tend toward the word unique. It sounds human enough that it doesn’t seem so crazy.”

My thoughts flashed to the legend, “Diablo Lake,” I whispered and he looked at me with a spark of interest.

“You remember that?” he asked with excitement.

I stared into his eyes as adrenaline poured into my veins, “What do you mean by remembered that? The story is hundreds of years old, of course I don’t remember that.”

The excitement faded from his face.

“I just heard the legend, about how it was made,” I added softly.

He sighed. “Well, yeah,” disappointment washed over him, “maybe it’s a good thing you don’t remember that day, that was about the last time I saw you.”

My mind was wildly swimming, “What do you mean?”

“When I saw you in your…” he paused, a weird look crossing his face, “past life.” The way he said it seemed unclear.

I could see there was a strange connection between what I was then, and what I am now. “What was I to you in this past life?” My eyes searched his but he again looked away.

“Just,” he shrugged, “a friend, of sorts.” I saw a shy smile curl across his face and I suddenly recognized why he was acting so forward toward me, he had loved me.

He smiled, “But that was ages ago.” He was changing the subject, “Right now, you don’t know me at all. Let’s go do something less depressing,” he stood with sudden determination, urging me to follow.

“Where are we going?” I breathed, staggering to a standing position as the adrenaline inhibited my movement. He was tall, something I hadn’t really noticed due to my overall fascination with his model physique.

“I want to show you some things from your past,” he sounded frank.

He urged me to follow him as we slowly strolled down the hill. I watched him as he walked, his gate poised and dominating. Every thought in my head had been jumbled like a web of imagination and it was hard to organize all the things he’d told me. I couldn’t believe I was a witch, and he was right, it did sound cheesy. It’s not like I was green and covered in warts, and as far as I knew, water never made me melt. Besides, I had never once done a single magical thing, well, unless you counted the plants. I furled my brow and shook the image from my head, this was absurd.

We walked in silence toward the lab as he began fishing in his pockets for the keys as we approached. He was swift to unlock the door, inviting me in as he held it open for me. I entered the room with caution, still remembering my dream. I stood staring into the darkness, waiting just inside the door while he came in behind me and turned on a light. I followed him past the aisles of empty work stations until we arrived at the mysterious door to his office and what I supposed was also his apartment. He pulled out a second set of keys from somewhere near his lapel, unlocking the door and ushering me in.

The office was dark but a strange feeling of occupation overcame me. As I glanced around the room I was shocked by the flicker of half a dozen tiny flashing lights facing me. He walked into the darkness to my right and I was unsure exactly where he was headed but figured he’d obviously known better than I. With a sudden crack, I heard a harsh scratching as a match struck against the rigid wall and a soft light filled the room. Edgar delicately lit some candles and the six intense flickering orbs turned into three pairs of bird eyes.

The first was the hawk from class, perched on a shelf toward the top of the tall office, its body poised as it had been in class and its wing healed. The next was the owl that stood on a perch by the far window, and the third was a snow-white hawk of some kind, an animal I’d never seen in his classroom before now.

The white hawk seemed to become flustered at my presence, its weight rotating from one foot to the next on the top of a large cage in the corner. Edgar watched as the white hawk gawked at me, a smile crossing his face as he approached it and gave it a gentle nudge on its head, ruffling its feathers.

Looking at the small room, I struggled to find where it was he slept. Though the nurse had said that this was where he’d lived, there was no sign of a bed or kitchen. There was a large wood desk centered in the space, its design European and sturdy. The outer perimeter of the room was lined with various perches and shelves, stuffed from floor to ceiling with dusty books and manuscripts. I narrowed my eyes at the spines of the books, finding them shockingly old, and most of them rare first editions.

He then moved toward the large brown hawk I’d seen in class. “This is Henry,” he said as he looked at me with pride, “You’ve met him before, and yes, he is thankful you are here and thankful you saved his wing.” Edgar motioned toward the owl, “And of course that is Alexander, you’ve seen him before too.” The owl tilted its head at me, his eyes flashing like a flipping silver coin.

I made no attempt to move, I was afraid I would scare them.

Edgar walked toward the third bird, the white hawk, “And this is Isabelle.” He looked at her with a soft smile on his face, her stare never breaking away from me, “She is native to warmer climates than this, but then again, her owner was a warmer being, so they were good together.”

He looked at me with a sly smile. “Would you like her back now?” His face was amused by the shock that filled my eyes.

I stared at Isabelle in astonishment, would I like her back? “She’s mine?” I stuttered, nervous to be so close.

“Yes, Elle.” His voice was strong, and convincing.

Her petite beak was a deep grey fading to a snow white head and body. She blinked at me as she tilted her head from side to side, still rocking back and forth in excitement on her perch.

Edgar put his hand on her milky feathers, “Can’t you see how happy she is to see you? She’s been waiting for centuries.”

I felt my heart quicken, “Centuries?” I gasped.

He gave Isabelle a nudge and she spread her wings, pushing off the cage and gliding down toward me. Without hesitation, as though I had done it in another life, I put my arm up to catch her.

“So have I,” he whispered, and I couldn’t tell if he’d meant me to hear it or not. “See,” Edgar’s face was animated with delight and his marbled eyes twinkled, “She loves you. It’s not right for me to keep her from you anymore, so now she’s yours again.”

My face fell in disbelief. I had never kept a pet because they had always drastically changed under my care. It was hard to explain why my new kitten had grown to a full sized cat overnight.

“Really?” I looked at Edgar with wide eyes noticing his face was now somewhat sad. “What is it?” I furled my brow with concern.

He took a few careful steps toward me, “I just miss your smile.” He glanced away toward the hawk, closing his eyes as though concentrating on something.

I watched him with curious intent, perplexed by the pained look on his face. When he opened his eyes again they were a deep serene grey. He took a few steps closer as Isabelle moved to my shoulder. Despite her massive wing span, she was the perfect size, no more than one pound at the most.

I watched as Edgar lifted a hand toward me, letting it hover just inches from my cheek. My breathing quickened as he looked at me, focusing his eyes on mine as they remained calm. My heart was racing in fear, afraid of what I did not know, afraid to hurt him, or myself.

In measured increments he brought his hand closer to my face and I closed my eyes out of fear. Finally, his hand touched my cheek and a cold tingling pierced through my skin. The sensation was unbelievable as I felt it spreading from the veins in my cheek through my whole face until it hit my spine. From there the tingling filtered warmth throughout my entire body and something began to flicker in my soul.

Like lighting a match, the flicker burst into a fireball and the breath was torn from my body and my eyes shot open as I stared into Edgar’s. His eyes went from a cool grey to a bright blue and the warm sensation filled every vein.

I felt my lips begin to curl, the sensation of euphoria causing my head to swim. My hands arched in bliss, and instantly, I remembered this feeling. For the first time in what seemed a lifetime, I was smiling.

He slowly let go and I saw a satisfied grin cross his face. “That’s what I was missing,” he breathed with eloquence. His eyes were a shocking deep blue and I was curious what it was that had caused the more than subtle change. Edgar looked away, his breathing now labored. Whatever it was that gave him the ability to do that had been physically hard on him.

My smile began to die as the light in my soul faded to smoldering nothingness, Edgar’s pained smile also leaving as he now focused on controlling his demons.

“What is it Edgar?” I paused, “What makes that happen to me?”

He sighed, “It’s difficult to explain,” he walked to his desk where he grabbed an apple he’d left there. “Watch,” he held the apple in his hand and I watched as his eyes glittered into the pure black darkness I had recognized on my first day.

The apple began to quickly deteriorate as though all the juices were evaporating out of it. I was horrified as I pictured the apple as me, and my adrenaline pumped as I realized the lethal gravity of his touch. His brows pressed together in concentration and his eyes flashed as the darkness reflected back to the deep royal blue they had been after touching me.

“Here,” he pushed his hand toward me.

With hesitation, I grasped the shriveled apple and brought it to my face. Just as fast as it had deflated, it began to prosper and heal. The skin re-constituted itself as though the hands of time had twisted back, returning the apple to its ripest youth. My touch revitalized the fruit in its entirety with little effort, even going as far as to bring it a certain light, as though it were glowing.

“You see Elle,” there was a look of despair to his face, “You give things life, all things,” he paused as he hung his head, miserable in his existence, “I just take it. You are the positive end of the battery, I am the negative.”

I stared at the apple in amazement, allowing the sinister reality of his being sink in. “So that’s why you’re afraid to touch me, you’re afraid you will kill me.”

He sighed, “Yes.” Looking back up at me, he touched gently touched my hair, “But I can control it, especially with animals and nature, and even humans. It’s just hard with you because the soul I crave most is yours.”

A perplexed look crossed my face, “But I don’t have a soul.”

He perked up. “But you do,” a sly smile crossed his face. “You see, long ago, in your past life, you hid it inside me and only you know how to get it back, even I can’t access it without you,” he was excited now. “This feeling that you just experienced, I haven’t felt it either, not for a long time. That’s what makes it so tempting and so hard for me to resist.”

I looked at him confused.

His face again became solemn. “But what I fear is you’ll never remember what you did to put your soul inside my heart. The only way you’re feeling it now is through my poisonous touch.”

I looked at him with extreme anxiety. “But why did I hide it in you?” I tilted my head in confusion.

“To save yourself.” He was walking away from me now, heading toward the wall where he grabbed a photo of a bird off the shelf, looking at it with mild interest.

I wasn’t sure why I’d give my soul to the very thing that could kill it. “To save me from you? But that doesn’t make sense, then why would I hide it in you?”

He turned to look at me, his eyes fading to a pale blue grey, “No, to save you from something else.”

He was being vague and I could hear the sadness welling in his throat as he said it. Obviously something had happened. Something had caused me to separate my mind from my soul, “But then...” I stopped. I had no idea what to say, nothing made sense anymore.

“Elle,” he took a deep breath, “I’m not complete without you, it sounds crazy, and probably a little more than you were bargaining for when you first laid your beautiful eyes on me, but it’s a vicious and painful existence we’ve lived.”

I nodded in obedience, feeling as though this was now my responsibility to fix.

“We are bound together by fate, by life. When one of us dies,” his eyes fluttered to mine, “it’s painful.”

I touched my chest as Isabelle still sat quiet and content on my shoulder, her feathers fluffed as though asleep and happy.

“I’m not sure if you want to hear the story Elle, but I think its time you know.” He placed the photo back on the shelf, turning to me and taking three paces forward.

I shifted my weight in excitement, “I want to know.” I took a step forward, no longer feeling strange about the intensity that was between us. I believed him, I could feel it.

He sighed, collecting his thoughts, “When you were born into this world, so was I.” He put his hand to his heart, “In the beginning we were one being. We were perfect, happy, strong, fast, and smart. But soon the gods grew angry and jealous at our utter perfection. One day, their rage became so great that they tore us all apart, and all of our kind was eternally damned to live a life of separation and turmoil.”

He was pacing now, his hands clasped together in thought.

“One half became strong, fast, and intense, the bringers of death and war. The other half became smart, sharp, and gifted with life, and ultimately became the mothers, or watchers of our souls.”

“But my half, the death half, was also blessed with power, and for some that power became an obsession and we took our gift for granted. It was these dark halves that became jealous of their mate and the proprietor of their most prized possession, the soul, the blue light of love and life. It’s why I’m drawn to you, Elle. I can’t resist it, but I can stop myself from taking it. But in this fact, we are also soul mates,” he smirked at the word. “Literally.”

I breathed slowly, my body tingling with a sudden release, all my hate, all my anger from the past few days, it was all justified. “So basically,” my voice was low and intense, “We share the same soul, in love?” I was trying to clarify his story somehow.

He looked at me with a glitter in his eye, “Essentially, yes. But also in happiness.” He walked to his desk where he sat in the large velvet blue chair, I could sense his exhaustion now, “Centuries ago we had it figured out, we had learned how to live with each other, to be happy as many of our kind also did. I learned to resist my jealous urge to kill you and steal the soul for myself. You see…” he leaned back in his chair, “I need energy to live, natural energy. Right now, the best I can do is gather it from the stars and nature.” His face looked hallowed as though remembering a better day, “But you, before…” he paused, “all I had to do was be around you.”

I listened with grave curiosity, my body breaking out in a sweat as the adrenaline pulsed undiluted through my blood. This was everything I had always dreamed to know, and now, it all made sense. It was as though all the suffering was somehow explained, as though I could finally move on from my sorrow, and live a life a could be proud of, a life I could finally feel.

His body was tense, “You have no concept of who you are or what you can be,” there was a fire in his eyes as he talked, “With your soul intact, you will be happy again.” He sat forward in his chair, “The being I see in front of me pains my heart. You’re nothing but a severed shell of your beautiful self. Your skin, your hair, it used to be so brilliant and so alive.”

Under this new light, everything about Edgar seemed different. Despite the fact I’d only been here a short time, seeing him now made my heart feel tight with anxiety, as though longing to be close to him, to never be apart.

I slowly stepped toward him, “Then how can you be happy? How are you ok?” There was a passion to my voice I’d never known. If he couldn’t access my soul either, than why was he so alive with life and emotion?

He sat forward again, mulling over my question, “I may be happy, but I’m weak. Where you lose your happiness, I lose my strength.” He sighed, “I’m tired Elle, every day is a struggle. I need your love, your life to bring me energy, not just your soul.” He sighed again, “Even though I may seem happy now, I wasn’t when you were gone, even when I could be. It’s all an act, to keep people away from me, to make sure they fear me, though the strength barely lasts.”

“So then, your weakness, that’s why you were unable to help yourself when you first saw me,” something inside of me was grafting myself closer to him, pulling me in.

“Yes,” he was fidgeting with a compass on his desk. “That first day in my class, with Henry, I was overwhelmed with desperation. I was weak beyond apprehension and hunger was driving me to try to kill you, but then the,” he paused, his eyes sad. “The love I felt deep inside, it saved you, and saved me. If you die, I’d never be able to live with myself, I couldn’t do it again.”

I stood there for a moment, overwhelmed with thought as I noticed the way his cheeks now seemed flushed, as though the time we’d spent here was already revitalizing his heart.

He sat up, giving me a bleak smile, “I think it’s time I take you and Isabelle back to your cabin, it’s getting late.” He smiled at us as we stood there in the flickering light of the candles. “My girls,” he whispered lightly under his breath.

BREAK OUT

The next day I woke to Isabelle’s subtle purring. During the night she had moved from the bed frame where I had perched her to a nesting position inside my arm. It was a surprise to see a bird cuddling as she was, but I guess it didn’t seem inconceivable that they could, just unlikely that a creature such as her would love a person so much.

I lay motionless for a few moments as I let the reality of everything sink in, unwilling to ruin the notion that my questions were at last answered. I thought about last night, how Edgar had divulged a whole other world to me, facts that I’d never imagined could exist. I had always figured I was the only one of my kind, my kind meaning, absolutely weird.

It was still pretty early and a part of me wondered if Scott would be showing up soon or if he’d officially forgotten me in his love daze with Sarah. With extreme care, I drew my arm out from around Isabelle, moving as softly as I could. After freeing my arm, I moved out from under the covers and tiptoed to the bathroom where I closed the door behind me with a silent click and turned on the shower.

I washed my hair under the soothing water, my energy ignited and my soul longing to smile, though it still refused me. There was an extra feeling of anticipation in my blood today, the thick adrenaline from last night still lingering. I was eager to get the hatchery class over with, anxious to see Edgar again. Now that I understood our special chemistry, it felt painful being apart. The string that was pulling me toward him was now yanking at my chest harder than ever. Something about being with him felt like centuries of life, centuries of some sort of comfort and completion that I needed to survive.

I felt the empty space in my chest, felt how desperate I was to get close to him and be whole again. I exhaled with eagerness and expectation, I needed that feeling back, and for the first time I felt I could finally see the end to my suffering, a solution that was true rather than another medication. Edgar was now all the drug I needed, and the only cure to the pain. Shutting off the water, I jumped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around me as I opened my door. A low scream escaped my lips as I jumped back, my adrenaline pumped excitement halted. Blinking hard a few times, I recognized the white thing was just Isabelle, standing like a stunned puppy on the floor before me, watching me with shocked curiosity.

I let out a relieved breath. For a moment, my mind had backtracked to that day in the woods and the grayish-white creature that had been following me. I stood there clutching the towel to my chest, my heart pounding. Isabelle was clearly much smaller than the thing in the woods, but when caught off guard, it’s rather hard to control your mind’s reactions.

Isabelle tilted her head up as she moved aside so I could pass, her eyes apologetic as though sorry she’d scared me.

“Isabelle,” I gasped, “Don’t do that again.” Her head tilted to the other side as though comprehending what I’d said and she scooted back, her claws clicking and sliding against the lacquered wood floors.

As I looked for something to wear, she hopped up to my bag, poking her head in as I was rummaging for a shirt. Isabelle was unlike any animal, let alone hawk, I had ever seen. Her mannerisms were more like a cat or dog, rather than a bird of prey. She nipped at my hand as I reached for a green shirt.

“Ouch, okay,” I looked at her with my brow furled, “I’ll pick something else.”

I moved my hand from the green shirt to a red hooded sweatshirt and she looked up at me, her eyes glinting.

“This one?” I asked. Amazed at how she seemed to understand.

She clicked her tongue at me and jumped around on the floor.

A sharp exhale escaped my lips, almost like a laugh, but without the joy, “Wow girl, I guess that’s a yes.”

I pulled the sweatshirt over my head as she watched, the warm fleece making my hair stick to my face with static from the dry climate. I pulled the rubber band from my hand and knotted my hair in a bun, figuring I was sick of it tangling in the wind, though I had to admit it felt great.

Content, Isabelle suddenly spread her wings, gently fanning them until she took flight, landing like an expert on the windowsill toward the back of the cabin and tapping her beak against the glass.

I stood, adjusting the sweatshirt around my waist. Approaching her, I placed my hand on her back, “Do you want out Isabelle?”

She tilted her head to one side, her small eyes flashing as she blinked. I grasped the handle and yanked the window open as the room filled with a crisp cold air. She seemed to look at me with gratitude as she took off, floating up the hill and into the morning mist. I shrugged my shoulders, figuring she knew what she was doing.

No sooner than she had disappeared, there was a sudden familiar knocking at the door. I whipped around, shutting the back window with a soft click then shuffling to the door. As I whisked it open, my eyes fell on two very cheery looking faces and my mind raced with excitement.

“Elle!” sang Scott as Sarah beamed next to him.

I quickly processed the scene, noticing the fact that they were now officially holding hands. “Hi guys!” I tried to exude the same emotional excitement my mind felt, feeling like an idiot as it came out like an awkward howl.

“Hey!” Scott boomed again, “Ready for class?”

Sarah watched me with observant and happy eyes. “Yep,” I ran back to my bed and grabbed my bag. “Ready to go,” I sang, still practicing the excitement. Shutting the door behind me, I grabbed my boots as Scott and Sarah stepped down onto the path.

I pulled each boot over my heel, fumbling with the laces when I caught the sudden glimpse of a bird flying into the tree behind them. Careful not to attract attention, I glanced up, recognizing the milky white feathers glowing under the morning haze. A dead mouse hung in Isabelle’s mouth as a glint of utter happiness flashed in her eyes. She was gloating about her skillful morning catch and I rolled my eyes at her as she again took off down the hill.

My gaze fell back to Scott and Sarah whom were now staring at Isabelle as she glided over the lake, enjoying her breakfast.

“Wow,” Sarah gasped. “What kind of bird was that you suppose?”

I saw her look to Scott for an answer as he seemed to struggle to figure it out, “Um well…” a confident look crossed his face, “I’m pretty certain that was a white snow owl.”

His blatant misconception was horrifying and I bit my tongue as I tried to resist correcting him, seeing how impressed Sarah had seemed, my mind not wanting to foil the moment. A smug grin crossed Scott’s face as I stood and exhaled in irritation, “Ok guys. Let’s go.” I walked up to them and the three of us turned onto the path and vigorously walked to class.

The hatchery was as boring as ever. The professor had ended up being the environmental type that just liked to hear herself talk. I never realized there were five ways to explain the very same fact, as though she didn’t know enough to stretch it over a whole course but it did make it seem like she really knew more than she likely did, and I’m guessing that was her goal. I stood in the back row, shaking my leg.

I looked around the room, noticing the same cold faces staring like zombies toward the front. It was clear no one but Scott took any interest in this lecture and it never made sense to me. If it was so horrible, then don’t come. I thought about that point for a minute, realizing I was being a hypocrite. I actually didn’t like any of it either, just the class with Edgar. As I rolled my eyes and looked to my left, my accidental gaze fell on a fresh face staring at me over his shoulder.

Caught off guard, I looked away, feeling somewhat offended. I pressed my brows together and quickly glanced back, finding that he was still staring. I exhaled and looked away as I crossed my arms. This guy didn’t even know me and already he was glaring. Looking back for a third time, I glared back, narrowing my eyes in my hope to scare him off. My stare succeeded as he looked shocked and whipped his head back to the front. Intrigued, I continued to observe him.

His clothes were not the normal tree-hugger/animal-activist type. I glanced to his shoes, raising one eyebrow as I noticed he wore a pair of gym shoes, hardly the shoes you’d even wear to a muddy park, let alone the wilderness. Everyone in the room wore heavy boots and hiking shoes, even me. Moving my gaze upward, I noticed his jeans looked expensive and designer, and his coat was black leather, probably the only bit of butchered animal skin within fifty miles. I blinked a few times, wondering if he was just a figment of my imagination, his overall image clearly out of place. Still shaking my leg, but now with sudden intrigue, I found this class was now more exciting than before.

As I stood there in a curious trance, he once again looked over his shoulder at me. His were eyes an intense bronze as though he knew I was there, and knew I was staring. I looked away, staring at a shelf behind him in hopes that he hadn’t noticed the way I had been gawking.

His face had been cold and mean, much like everyone else, except, he was shockingly pale. I instantly erased the fact that he wasn’t another Edgar type based on his somewhat scruffy, rich biker look, but still, he wasn’t like everyone else either. He had tussled brown hair that only made his features seem sharper. I blinked rapidly, watching from the corner of my eye and marveling at how smooth and young his face was, the powdery complexion a far cry from the radiant glow Edgar seemed to possess.

He once again turned to the front as another student took notice, glaring at us as though we’d somehow disrupted his listening experience, as though it was even worth hearing. I pursed my lips and began tapping my foot. Something about this guy seemed too strange to let slide, and I made the mental note to keep my eye on him. As I thought this, the kid seemed to laugh to himself, his back shaking and the kid next to him stepped away, as though he were a crazed lunatic.

Finally, the professor excused us and I dropped the mysterious newcomer from my mind as I rushed to hook Sarah and Scott by the arm and lead them out, my attention now crowded with thoughts of Edgar.

Scott looked at me with an annoying grin on his face, “Wow Estella, you really do have a crush on the teacher don’t you.”

I gave him a reproachful glare, looking to Sarah for some support. As we walked through the jam of the door, I discreetly looked over my shoulder, noticing that the new guy had hung back as though waiting to follow. As I watched him, a voice echoed in my head and it took me by surprise.

“What?” it whispered, as though the mysterious guy had said it out loud.

I squinted my eyes at him, pushing my brows together even further, but he looked away. My jaw dropped as the absurdity of my thoughts became too irrational to accept.

“Hey Elle, did you hear me?” Scott was shaking my arm.

I whipped my head back forward; my arms still laced inside Sarah and Scott’s, “What?”

Scott rolled his eyes. “I said, you really do have a crush on Professor Edgar, don’t you?” he sighed, “But it was sort of more funny a minute ago, you ruined it while you were staring at the new guy.”

Sarah gave me a sweet grin before giving Scott a sassy frown, “Scott, leave her alone. Besides, Edgar is pretty cute.” A sour look passed over Scott’s face and Sarah quickly back-peddled, “But not as cute as you.”

Scott’s face turned a vibrant red as the cheesy line caused vomit to well in my throat and I rolled my eyes in disgust. They were whispering and giggling to each other now and I stepped away from them, knowing that if I had to be subjected to hearing one more line like that, it would cause me to lose my breakfast right there on the sidewalk.

We pushed through the doors into class and went straight to our station. Scott ran to get a third stool for Sara as I sat at the far end of the table, staring at the door and feeling the pull toward it become greater with each passing minute. I hardly noticed as the classroom filled and the voices droned in loud waves all around me.

Thinking I could finally relax after the disturbing morning, my body went tense as I saw the new guy enter the room, standing right beside me at the door. The air around him felt cold and foreboding and I couldn’t help but shake. He looked around with a blank face before striding toward the front, taking a seat somewhere in the middle between row two and three, the only station that was left empty. I was staring a hole in the back of his head, something about him was not human, but this time, he didn’t look back at me.

Silence fell over the room as Edgar emerged through the door and my attention was seized away from the new guy to him, his face more beautiful than the last time I’d seen him.

“Hello class,” his voice was booming and I felt smug, knowing that he really wasn’t as scary as most believed and that it was all for show.

His gaze was locked on mine and I could see happiness living there behind his ominous physique. He was wearing a long sleeved thermal black shirt with jeans and a pair of nice black boots. He folded his arms across his chest as he leaned against the desk, crossing his feet at his with arrogance. His black hair was tussled, but organized against his pearly skin and prominent black brows. The pale blue grey of his eyes told me he was calm, but the roaring cloudiness told me he was anxious as well.

“How did we do with the research into the foreign intruder?” he asked in a dark tone, striking fear into the hearts of all those with unfinished papers.

I hadn’t written a paper, figuring there was absolutely no point, and if anything, he’d probably just laugh at my attempt at lying.

Everyone had their papers laid out before them as he went row to row, collecting each. He nodded at the new guy, giving him a free pass. When he got to my row his mouth curled into a seductive smile and he winked at me, his eyes flashing behind his lenses.

In a sudden flourish, his face turned to anger but his eyes were telling me otherwise. “Estella Smith,” his voice boomed so loudly that it echoed in my empty soul, “Why did you not bring your paper?”

For a moment I was confused but as I watched him eye me with playfulness, I realized he was just playing a trick on the rest of the class, as well as doing me a favor. I quickly summoned some terrified breaths, impersonating a scared student easier than I had expected.

“I uh…” I stammered as best I could as I tried to formulate my next scene, “I didn’t find it relevant?”

An amused smirk crossed his face. “Are you saying you think my teachings are irrelevant?”

The pitch of his voice was frightening and I found I didn’t have to fake an elevated heart rate. I crossed my arms and lifted my chin into a smug mask, shocking the class with my defiance. “Yes,” I snapped tartly.

I saw his eyes flash at me with a proud glimmer. “Well then,” he turned and marched to the front of the room. “I guess I will have to see you after class, and don’t worry, I’ll make sure all your other professors know about your little indiscretion and make sure they take note of my disciplinary actions.”

I tried to look horrified, but in truth I was relieved. He had rescued me from an afternoon of boring lectures and inevitable embarrassment.

He turned his attention from me to the rest of the frozen class. Everyone was terrified and Edgar looked pleased with himself, glowing with both pride and authority.

Scott nudged me as Sarah eyed me from around his shoulder. “Geez Elle. You know there are better ways to get a date.”

Sarah elbowed him in the ribs and I heard his breath wince in his chest.

If I could have laughed, I would. I gave Sarah a thankful wink as she eyed me pride I could see that we were going to be more than just friends; we were going to be best friends.

After class, I sat rigid on my stool as everyone left, continuing the act. My gaze followed the new guy, but he didn’t delight me in the triumph of a look and I gave up, only to see him look from the corner of my eye just seconds before he stepped from the door. I frowned, still curious who he was. Scott gave me an apologetic glance as Sarah dragged him off to the greenhouses. She gave me a sweet wave as the door shut behind her and at last Edgar and I were alone.

I let out the breath I’d been holding as Edgar sauntered toward me, removing his glasses and grinning with enthusiasm. “For someone that can’t feel emotion,” he said in a sly tone, “You were certainly a convincing victim.”

I watched with caution as his body hovered close to mine, my mind forgetting everything about the day and melting into nothingness. Edgar brushed his finger down the length of my hand as the warm sensation burst to life in my chest and I smiled.

“You have no idea how good that feels,” I sighed.

He gave me a gentle smile, his eyes beginning to saturate with life, “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

His eyes were now deep, blazing a midnight blue as I looked into them and as he stood back, they began to fade.

“I think I’m getting better with that,” he said. “With touching you,” his voice was arrogant and thick.

“I hope so.” I was desperate to feel that way longer, forever.

“So, now that I have you all to myself for the rest of today, what would you like to do?” His gorgeous body was like a statue before me and I longed to nestle into it and feel his arms around me.

I shrugged.

He looked out the window in contemplation, “I think I know just the thing.” His eyes narrowed and a smile crossed his face. Beckoning me out the front door, I followed in obedience. Once outside, he turned and took off up the hill and I scurried to follow. As we passed my cabin, I realized where we were headed and for a moment I felt unsure. We entered the woods and my eyes had a hard time adjusting to the darkness of the dreary day.

Edgar turned to look at me, his eyes flashing like coins in the bleak surroundings. “Grab onto my coat,” he breathed.

I reached forward, grasping onto the thick wool, softer than I’d imagined beneath my touch. I reveled in the warmth of his body, breathing deep as we walked past the hut where I had rested at on my first trip to the field. We continued on the same path, finding I felt at home here and I’d missed it. As the trees divided, the large expanse opened like a blooming flower before us.

Edgar walked with purpose as though on a mission to a certain point in the meadow. The cry of hawks overhead grabbed my attention and I shot my eyes skyward, seeing Isabelle and Henry fighting their way through the sky.

“They aren’t hurting each other right?” I asked, worry lacing my voice.

Edgar grunted, “Hardly.” He stomped through the tall grass as it leaned in toward me, again blooming in my wake as though it were a sunny warm day. My cheeks blushed as I looked behind me, afraid Edgar would find it strange, but then again why would he? My wary eyes looked into every dark nook of the opening, there was yet to be a time when I entered these woods without something horrible happening. As I thought about it, I grasped harder onto Edgar’s jacket, trying to stay as close to his back as he would allow.

As we breached the exact center of the meadow Edgar halted, throwing me backward as I jumped to avoid touching him. He turned to look at me, his face curled into a gorgeous grin.

“Here,” he said bluntly, looking at the ground. His eyes were intense with excitement. “You didn’t come to this meadow that day on a fluke,” I watched as his lips sanctimoniously curled from a smile, to a sneer. “There was more that drew you here,” he paused, approaching me and now standing just inches away, his heavy breath falling across me, my heart racing in a way that wanting to give into everything. “It was also home,” he finished.

As he spoke the words, something inside me flickered and my heart stopped as though suspended in the feeling of his words.

“Home?” I breathed, my eyebrows pressed together. I had never called anywhere home, what was the point when you never knew how long it would remain yours?

“Yes,” his voice snaked through the air. “Your home, where you lived for most of your past life, and where I hope you’ll learn to live again.”

I gawked at him, looking around the field with arbitrary wonder, confused as to what exactly he was referring to.

He chuckled at me, touching his finger to my chin and turning my gaze back to him as my body relished the feeling of his contact, the overwhelming emotions making my head swim.

“But, where?” I was scanning his eyes, my body like butter as he released his careful touch on my chin, his face now radiant with life.

“You do trust me right?” His half smile was irresistible and I found myself staring at his lips, my heart falling in love at an alarming rate.

I nodded, my chin still tingling from his touch.

“Close your eyes Elle.” He closed his and I quickly followed suit.

I was surprised when I felt him reach out and grab my hands, his skin smooth and warm and his grasp firm. I smiled then, my body bursting to life.

I felt a gust of wind engulf us like a tornado and I heard the cracking of a hundred trees snapping like twigs around us in the swirling vortex. I grasped his hands tighter, keeping my eyes clenched, afraid to see what was happening, afraid to die. As abruptly as it had begun, the wind settled and the only sound was the heavy measured ticking of a clock somewhere to my left, a sound I didn’t expect.

“Ok,” Edgar’s face was right next to my ear, his wonderful breath falling across my cheek. “You can open your eyes now. You’re safe.”

I drew in a deep breath and cracked my eyes open as the gentle warmth of a million flickering candles were now dancing in my view. I looked to Edgar as he stepped away from me, his eyes turning from my face as I noticed him struggle, his pupils dilated and his eyes completely black. I stood there for a moment, allowing him to recover as I glanced around the room. After a moment, Edgar looked back, his body calm and relaxed.

“How did we…” I gasped, still unable to grasp the existence of the space I now stood in.

Edgar’s mouth curled into a shaky smile, his body trembling as though he’d just had a whole pot of coffee.

I had found myself standing in the front hall of a house and as I looked out the windows of the front door, the meadow we had just been standing in sat outside in its beautiful silence. Everything my gaze landed on looked ancient, every bit of furniture an antique. There were golden silk chairs and etched mirrors. A million candle votives hung on tenterhooks from the walls. The floor was dark granite, and its sheen was subdued from years and years of use. The ticking I had heard boomed from a large grandfather clock on the left end of the room, allowing for an ominous mood to be cast upon the space.

“How is this…” stammering, I forced myself to find the words, I couldn’t understand what was happening. “How is this here?”

Edgar finally spoke, “No one can see this, only you and I know it’s here.” His chest rose with excitement, still watching me with a nervous eye.

“But I didn’t know it was here,” I retorted as I looked up toward the giant crystal chandelier that hung over my head and the spiraling stairs on either side of me.

“Something inside you did,” he said frankly. “Come in, let us sit for a while, get better acquainted and I’ll show you around your house,” his familiar personality returned and his smile was brilliant and alive, as though finding the one thing his heart always desired. Together we turned, traveling deeper into the depth of the house.

HOME

“Here you are,” Edgar thrust a cool glass of water toward me.

“There’s even plumbing?” I asked in a mocking tone.

He tilted his head at me, giving me a disdainful look, “Very funny Elle.” He gulped down his water in three swallows. “So nothing about this seems familiar?” He ventured with curiosity, setting his glass down on a nearby table. “Does it?”

I shook my head, guilt filling my body. I could see how much he needed me, how much he had missed whomever I was.

“Oh,” his eyes fell. He sat next to me on an ancient looking chaise lounge in what appeared to be the sitting room. He leaned his body across the back, his muscles flexing through his tight fitting shirt.

The walls were thick with elegant deep red wallpaper and there were objects of all kinds cluttered across it. The large collection of clocks all around the house was mind boggling, from every age of life. There were paintings and pictures and rows upon rows of dusty bookshelves filled with centuries of literature.

I stood as he leaned his head against his hand, watching my every move. I walked to a shelf across the room. There was a small window in the wall and I noticed it looked through to what looked like a library. I turned my gaze back to the shelf in front of me, sidestepping as I ran my hand along the velvety wood.

There were objects from all over the world, from really old looking Chinese fans, to small tribal looking masks. There was a framed bit of ancient looking newspaper and as I squinted, I was barely able to make out ‘Salem Witch Trials’ typed in faded ink across the top. I looked at Edgar and he smirked.

“Yeah, I just thought it was funny, humans, so paranoid.” He looked amused, as though he’d looked at it every day for years, each time finding it funnier than before. I finally rounded the room in its entirety, feeling more like I’d visited a museum than the living room of a house I’d lived in my past life. At last satisfied that I’d seen enough I sat back on the lounge, making sure to keep my distance.

All the subtle ticking from the clocks were making me anxious. “Edgar?” Saying his name broke the silence of the room and he turned to me, his face angelic behind his sharp features. “If you don’t age, and I do, what will happen?”

He laughed with an abrupt hoot. “You don’t age either,” he said directly, “at least, not once you get your soul back you won’t.” He looked relaxed and content, “You will change Elle, if you think you’re pretty now,” he paused, looking at me in my entirety, “which I happen to think you’re gorgeous, just wait until you see yourself later, you’ll be simply breathtaking, your body will return to its original form, the form in which you were designed.”

I looked down at my body, the red sweatshirt Isabelle had picked for me was hardly the most attractive or revealing outfit to be wearing. I looked at Edgar’s effortless style and the way it made him look only further appealing. He had one leg hitched halfway onto the chair and one arm thrown over the back of the chase, his other hand resting on his leg with his strong fingers spread. I squinted at a strange indentation on his left hand ring finger, but quickly glanced away in my fear to realize what it was.

I rolled the thought of eternal beauty in my head, shamelessly wishing I could have the same effortless appeal. I already didn’t put very much, if any effort into my looks, but what would it be like to then look flawless and breathtaking, like Edgar always had?

I nodded, a dumbfounded look on my face, if I was never supposed to age then how did I die in the first place? I looked at Edgar, puzzled. “But then how was I even born a second time? I mean, that probably means I died then right? And if I was designed as an adult, then why was I ever a baby?”

My heart suddenly raced as he lifted the hand he’d had spread across the back of the lounge, reaching toward me and touching a wisp of hair that had escaped from my knot and twirling it in his fingers. His scent wafted to my nostrils with delight and I breathed deep, “You weren’t really born, at least not the way you’d think.”

He leaned in closer, my body now rigid. He tilted his head into the contours of my neck, just under my chin. His warm breath fell across my collar bone and my limbs froze. His lips were just a breath away from touching my skin and I shivered. I could feel his body heat as his head hovered close to mine. Slowly, without grazing my skin, he reached his opposite arm around my neck, grabbing my hair and tenderly pulling it out of its messy knot, allowing it to tumble down my back. He laced his hands into it, pulling it back and flipping it over my other shoulder to further expose the skin on my neck.

He then whispered, tickling my skin, “When you died, eventually you were re-born.” He dropped my hair and pulled away, somehow content with the new level he had brought us. His eyes were a dangerous shade of navy and his breathing was hot as though burning with death.

I was hanging on his every word, my cheeks blushing from his welcomed closeness, my rebellious side pressing his self-control.  I watched him as he sat there. “How did I die though?” My thoughts were racing, the way he smelled, his beautiful face, it was all so amazing.

His eyes turned to mine, “You killed yourself to save me, to save us.” His voice was velvety smooth as he took a few deep breaths, still struggling to maintain his composure after getting so close.

I carefully ran my hand through my hair, trying not to make any sudden movements. He breathed through his nostrils then, eyeing me.

“I can’t resist being around you, you’re intoxicating,” he breathed, still leaning away from me, still trying to recover.

I worked to distract him, quickly thinking of more to say. “But I had a mother. She left me that letter…” I trailed off, now realizing that all I’d ever believed in was false.

“Estella,” my name curled from his mouth like smoke. “You wrote that note, to trick yourself, to give yourself false hope. We wrote it together.” His eyes locked onto mine before glancing away. “Three hundred years ago, you wrote that, insisting that we were better off if we never knew each other, if we lived our own lives. I didn’t want any part of it, but I couldn’t resist the passion in your eyes.” He was still hanging away from me, timidly avoiding my gaze and watching my body language with care.

Chills ran down my spine at those words. It was all so strange, so surreal that this man before me, this devilish sorcerer had been my soul-mate. It was so dream-like that we had shared so much of a life together, and surreal that I was the only one that couldn’t recall it. I felt drugged, cheated and lied to. But what was worse was that I only had myself to blame for my own suffering.

“But why did I have to die?” My brow was furled in sudden anger. I had been cheated from a wonderful life, a life of magic and happiness.

He finally relaxed, his body leaning back toward me with a renewed comfort. “Because, we are not the only ones of our kind, there was one other,” he was leaning in even farther now, his desire to be close a bitter-sweet battle in his mind.

My heart rate quickened as I watched him, feeling my life hanging on a wire. He glanced at my lips, his head lacing close to my cheek, “There was another one of our kind left, and he was coming for you.” His voice was full of suspense and trepidation.

I sat very still as his breath fell across my ear, his whispering voice enthralling. “Didn’t he have his own soul-mate though?” I asked carefully.

He lifted his hand from his lap to my hair, his fingers combing through the silky strands as he whispered into my ear, his voice like silk and honey. “He killed her.”

The words caused me to shudder and I turned with brave abruptness and faced him, our noses perilously close as he looked at me with surprise and slight discomfort. His mouth curled into a half smile and his teeth glinted in the candlelight. I looked into his eyes with fear, now realizing his lethal power.

His breathing was steady and controlled. “He was evil, far more evil than any of the others, and greedy.” Our breaths fluttered across each others lips, his ash colored eyes searching mine. “He killed her first, and then in his thirst, came after all of us, killing us one at a time.”

He leaned in with a sharp push, his gaze never blinking from mine. I stopped breathing as his nose brushed against my cheek, the strongly anticipated feeling more powerful than I’d ever felt. My chest was bursting with life and my lungs exhaled air with force. I took a slow deep breath, delighting in the feeling before he pulled back for a second time, his eyes again a brilliant blue.

My chest was heaving hard as he watched me, charmed with his influence over my soul. “We were the last of our kind.” His gaze flashed as he blinked, “You were terrified beyond repair, so I brought you here.”

I diligently watched him as my body still tingled, my cheeks burning.

He glanced around the room before settling his eyes back on mine. “He still found us though, and in a brutal second, you made the decision to lock your soul inside me, against my strong objection.”

He paused, his eyes dropping as I saw them beginning to well with pain. He rested both his hands into his lap and laced his fingers into a nervous knot as he forced back the sudden emotion.

“You were laying there lifeless before me, your beautiful pearly hair draining of its brilliance,” he looked at my creamy locks. “And like I was saying, even now, it’s not the same.”

His eyes welled over and I resisted the urge to wipe the tear that had fallen down his cheek.

He looked deep into my eyes. “But I knew you would return. There was still life in those blue eyes of yours,” he stopped himself as he took a deep breath, “even then. You were always so stubborn, so strong. You had the undying desire to come back. Besides, the earth needs you.”

He put his face in his hands and I sat there hopeless, the void in me tearing through my chest.

He spoke into his fists, “Then when he saw you,” Edgar looked up with a disturbing look on his face, his eyes burning dark with rolling thunderclouds of hatred, “he just laughed at me, told me that now I was no better than him. I was suddenly overwhelmed with a hatred I’d never known and I felt my body surge with pain as your energy began to leave me.” He shook his head in regret. “I attacked him with so much force that it was quick to knock the life from me. The fight was brutal, far beyond anything you could fathom. It was my luck that he eventually ran like a coward; otherwise I would have died as well. He was badly injured and bleeding, and that was the last I saw of him. The only thing that managed to save me that day was the thought of you, the hope that you’d return.”

His eyes calmed and I leaned back, never breaking my sorrowful gaze from him.

“I flew back to you, as fast as my wings could manage, but your body was gone.” The look on his face raised a painful lump in my throat. “All that was left of your body was one feather.”

He stood and walked to a bell jar that sat on the shelf, the dust on it was thick, making it hard to view the contents. He lifted the lid, plucking something from it with care. He walked back to me as my mouth fell open at the simple object in his grasp.

“This feather.” He handed it to me.

I took the white feather between my fingers as all speech was ripped from my lungs. I held the feather as though it were the most precious thing in the world and its color changed with a sudden glimmer, becoming a vivid white. The abrupt hue was much like Edgar’s pearled black feather had been, with the same razor sharp edge. It was then that I instantly understood, my gaze diverting toward him.

His stare had never faltered. “You were the last white raven,” he exhaled. “And you were beautiful.” The look on his face was deeply despaired. “It was hard to know exactly what happened to you. I had no idea if you’d ever return, but as the months rolled into years, then decades, and even worse, centuries, I began to lose hope. There was no real recorded history about our kind, there was no way to know if you’d ever return, but then here you are, still alive.”

I rolled the feather over and over in my hand, amazed that this beautiful object had been a product of me. “But then why am I not able to be a raven now? Is it because of my soul?”

He looked at me with hope, his brows lifting in thought. “Yes, I suppose that’s why.”

There was silence for a moment as the collection of wall clocks quietly ticked. I handed the feather back to Edgar but he only shook his head in defiance.

“No, it’s yours now.” He was stubborn in his stand against me. “Keep it, maybe it will help.” He walked back toward me and knelt to the ground, his gaze meeting mine. His eyes were a gentle blue, like the lake on a rainy day. “I need you back Elle.” He reached toward me, slipping his arms around my waist, gently holding them away from my body as though in a hug.

I tilted my head down, his hair brushing my lips. “What happened to the other sorcerer, after he ran?” I breathed into his hair and this time it was he whom shuddered.

Edgar pulled his hands away from me, moving with fluid elegance as he again rested beside me, looking at me with dark apprehension. “Matthew’s still alive, he still lives in London.”

His name sent terror through my heart as though I had heard it before. “Won’t he come back?” I asked terrified.

Edgar sighed, “There’s the potential that he could, if he finds out about you. That’s why I left last weekend.”

I looked at him with alarm, “That raven, in the meadow.” I gasped, “The English raven.”

Edgar reached toward my hand, gently tracing it as I shut my eyes, feeling the rush of warmth rack my bones. “The raven was his spy,” his voice was full of concern, “Matthew knows something about you. He can feel it I’m sure, but from London, it can’t be very clear. He’s been sending spies for the last hundred years in hopes that you’ll return. My belief is that he has some sort of bargain with the gods, a bargain against our kind in an effort to eradicate us. What I don’t understand is that our kind can actually help, but the god’s jealousy is so thick, that they can’t see beyond that.”

I watched as he slid his hand across the cushion toward mine, lacing his smooth fingers into my hand as I struggled to compose myself. The searing beauty in my veins was thick and my blood welcomed the drug in thankful appreciation.

“I haven’t seen anymore ravens though, but he must have noticed that his spy was killed. When I went to scout out the situation last weekend, Matthew wasn’t acting at all strange, just very sick and drained of life.” His voice was soft and he was concentrating on the touch of our hands, “The years had not been kind to him and in fact he has aged. His once youthful skin in now like leather and his eyes are no more than black marbles. At first, I didn’t even recognize him, finding myself confused as though he had been replaced by something far more evil.”

My breathing was heavy as I opened my eyes and Edgar smiled.

“There you are,” he breathed, looking at my face with strange recognition.

I felt a surge of memory flash through my mind, but none of it was at all comprehensible. His eyes were a deep blue and there was a warmth searing from him that I hadn’t noticed before. Edgar was struggling to hold on, struggling to fight back his urge to take my soul away from me for good. Despite my fears, I desperately wanted to be closer, I needed this feeling.

His eyes darkened and he furled his brow, gently releasing his grasp with a trembling hand. “I love you,” he whispered, as though saying it not to me, but the fire that burned inside and the glimmer of a person that had flashed through my eyes.

My soul slowly flickered back to black as my chest ached with the pain of loss. I didn’t know what to say and I found myself changing the subject in an attempt to retain my sanity. “Will he come back?” I regained my composure, looking at him with controlled intensity.

“I hope not, but if he does, I will protect you. I feel I am stronger than him still, but if he’s desperate enough, that may be worse.” His voice sounded grave.

“Then you have to teach me to be me again.” My voice was frantic, “I need to be able to protect you too.”

A smile curled across his beautiful face. “Or just try to remember how to get your soul back, that’s probably easier,” he laughed, “You’re far too stubborn, I wouldn’t want to have to teach you again.”

I tried to smile, but nothing came. He brushed a hand against my cheek, seeing my frustration and allowing me the chance to give him the reply I wanted. I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch, my heart finally filling with color and my soul shining a bright light through my heart.

“I’m just glad you’re back Elle. I should have never let you go. I just wish you had waited, we could have killed him together.” He looked exhausted. “But you were always tricking me like that, always thinking of me before yourself. Your sacrifice was selfless and fueled by love, not reason.” His face was now tormented and lost.

“But don’t think about that,” I sighed. “Just think about now. The past is over. Gone.” I thought about the fact that to me, the past hadn’t really even existed.

He forced a smile, “Yeah, easy for you to say.”

I looked to the clock and then to the darkened field through the windows. I wasn’t really willing to find my way back in the shadowy woods at midnight. I stood up, “It’s getting late,” I replied darkly. “I should probably get back.”

Edgar raised his gaze to mine and I could see he felt awful. “I’ll walk you home,” he breathed, standing with pain as though he’d just run a marathon.

I awkwardly walked to the hall as he took a deep breath. “Going out is a lot easier than coming in,” he reached a hand out to me and I grasped it as he walked for the door.

I closed my eyes as he opened it and led me down the front steps; still to afraid to watch what really happened when I returned to the field. My feet felt the familiar soft bed of grass and I opened them again. Looking around me, the house was completely gone as though it had been a dream.

I heard him laugh next to me in the darkness as he released my hand.

Looking to the sky, the full moon was halfway hidden behind a thick cloud, its light glowing around its edges like ripped tissue paper. As my eyes adjusted I was able to make out Edgar’s face, glimmering blue-grey in the moonlight. Edgar stared at the moon while I stared solely at him, finding his exquisite features far more amazing.

His lips were parted and a cloud of breath released in waves from his mouth, powerfully weaving through the air. His teeth were luminous and his eyes glowing. I turned my gaze to the sky, now feeling his eyes fall to me. I watched him staring at me from the corner of my eye, his eyes burning like fire.

“Edgar?” I twisted my head, meeting his glowing face, “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

A half smile grew on his lips. “Now you’re the one being presumptuous.”

I snorted with a playful chuckle of resilient energy, “Not like that!” I squealed, my voice echoing across the grass.

Edgar gave me a sarcastic puppy dog face. “Well that’s too bad,” he winked. “Because if you’re feeling suicidal tonight, I’d be more than willing to oblige, death would probably be the outcome.”

I glared at him, shaking my head. “Yeah, I’ll pass on that.”

He walked toward me, half his face still illuminated in solar beauty. He brushed the hair from my brow, gracefully trailing his hand down my face and across my cheekbone, the feeling making me giggle. The emotion of laughter was amazing. I had never felt anything like it before, it was like a tickle throughout my entire body and I was addicted, heart and soul.

“I just couldn’t keep that from you. It seemed like the right moment for a laugh, and yes, I’m always happy with sleeping on the floor. Besides, I don’t think Isabelle would be too pleased if I stole her spot so soon.” His smile cut across his face, his mouth glittering like a string of pearls.

A soft breeze blew across the meadow and I shuddered, suddenly scared by the fact that we were in the woods in the dark.

Edgar looked to the trees, “Well? Shall we?”

“Oh please,” I paused, looking into the dark woods, “after you.” My eyes were wide.

He laughed, taking one strong step forward, “Then grab my coat, I will lead the way.”

Half way across the field he abruptly stopped, “Ok this is going to take forever if you can’t see like I can.”

I yelped as he twisted around, scooping me into his arms like I were a bag of hay. “What’s it like to be able to see in the dark?” I asked, adjusting his grip around my waist.

He laughed, “Like cheating. I can see everything, even if it can’t see me. It’s a great defense tool.”

I nodded, longing to be able to see that well, and frowning at the fact I saw nothing.

His grip became tighter, “I carried you once. I can handle carrying you again. We’ll just move fast.” He was looking down at me, reveling in the fact that he held my whole life in his hands, his dimples now showing. “You trust me right?’

I nodded against his strong arm, feeling so small, “I trust you.”

And with that, he began to run. His gate was the same soft slow loping as when he’d saved me, almost lulling me into sleep like riding in a car.

A few minutes later his feet hit gravel and he stopped, gently putting me down as he breathed hard, shaking his head and regrouping. “Ok, that was hard, but definitely worth it,” he gasped, his energy alive inside him and his skin revitalized.

“I’ll say, it was like flying first class,” I paused. “Or what I would imagine flying first class was like.”

He laughed between heavy breaths, the strong gusts of steam cutting through the cool night air.

“I was a little curious how you were able to handle being so close to me before, how did you not kill me that day when you carried me from the meadow?” I walked up onto my porch and he followed, noticeably distanced as he still struggled to clear his mind. I opened the door to my cabin, searching through the dark for the switch to the lamp.

“Because I was more driven from fear of losing you again, not hunger.” I felt Edgar reach around me, immediately finding the switch.

“Ok, now you’re just showing off.”  I hissed.

He laughed. “Well I mean come on. I can see the switch right there, clear as day. Why let you struggle?”

I grabbed a pillow from my bed and threw it at him. “Here. Floor.” I pointed to the middle of the room. There was at least a wool rug so I didn’t feel completely horrid for making him sleep there, though I was certain it wasn’t exactly clean.

He eased himself onto the floor and I rummaged through my now overflowing bag and piles of both clean and dirty clothes to find something to sleep in. I shot my head up when there was a sudden subtle tapping at the door and Edgar sat up.

“I got it,” he grunted as he fought to stand.

He opened the door as the sound of Isabelle’s feet tapped in, followed by Henry.

I looked at them both with a strange face, “It’s like a zoo in here now.” Henry looked at me with reproachful beady eyes.

Edgar laughed, “I think if I were you, I wouldn’t say that. I don’t think he likes being referred to as a zoo animal.”

I looked at Henry. “Sorry.” My voice was sincere and he tapped his feet over to Edgar as he eased himself back down on the floor.

I closed myself in my bathroom where I quickly changed and brushed my teeth. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I noticed how my face already looked brighter and my hair healthier. It seemed that whatever power Edgar possessed, it was already changing me in a small way.

I scurried back into the main room and slipped under my covers. Edgar twisted up off the floor and assisted with the lamp one more time, and then the room was dark. I listened to the soft breathing of our four alternating breaths, feeling for the first time that I wasn’t alone and that I now had a life to live for.

Isabelle crawled up the sheets toward me from her position on the bed frame. I hunted in the dark for her head as my eyes adjusted. Turning on my side I looked at Edgar’s pearly outline as he laid on his back, one leg propped up and one arm behind his head on the pillow. His eyes were open and staring straight at the ceiling.

“What are you thinking about?” my voice cut through the mesmerizing silence.

Edgar turned his head to look at me. “Just you, wondering where it was you went for so long, and why you came back now and not before.”

I nodded, “Maybe I came back because I finally got lonely enough.”

He snorted, his eyes blinking, “I don’t think that’s the case, you were always pretty independent. You couldn’t stand the way I always hovered over you. My guess is that wherever you were, you were probably dying to get back. I just don’t understand what kept you there for so long.”

I leaned back onto my pillow. “Hmm,” I tried to think, tried to remember, but there was nothing.

“Well, goodnight Elle,” Edgar’s voice sounded tired.

“Goodnight Professor,” I mused.

Edgar cringed, “Now I really do feel old.”

SAM

I shot up like an arrow as Isabelle angrily clicked at me. The obnoxious knocking at the door had been abrupt, jarring me straight out of a sound sleep.

“Shoot!” I whispered harshly under my breath.

Edgar looked at me from the chair in the corner, “Don’t worry, it’s just that funny little friend of yours, Scott. He’s so terrified of me, it cracks me up.” His face was maliciously twisted and Henry was poised on his lap as he was petting him.

“Hold on!” I yelled, looking at the clock, “Why didn’t you wake me?” I hissed.

Edgar shrugged, “I was enjoying the view.”

I glared at him, whipping myself out of bed and mindlessly grabbing a pair of jeans and a black cotton long sleeve shirt off the floor. I rushed into the bathroom and changed as fast as humanly possible, though the term “human” was a grey area at the moment. Walking out, my feet boomed across the floor in my frustration and anxiety. Edgar watched with an irritating grin, a content look to his physique.

“Shouldn’t you be hiding?” I hissed.

He laughed, “Why? You don’t want your friends to know you’re dating the professor?” The look on his face suggested he was enjoying this humiliating torture he was putting me through.

I abruptly snorted, “I’m going to go to class so don’t let anyone see you leave. I don’t need any more evil glares.”

He gave me a sarcastic salute and I grumbled at him as I grabbed my bag. I refused to look at him as I marched to the door and grabbed the handle with fury.

“See you soon,” he sang. “You know, it’s much easier to be a professor than a student, you should really try it. There is a lot less effort involved in looking normal that way.”

I rolled my eyes, “I hardly classify you as normal,” and with that, I bolted out the door.

The cooling air felt amazing as my heated emotions began to make me sweat. I looked at Sarah and Scott, tilting my head in shame, “Sorry guys.”

They both looked exceedingly annoyed and Scott reproachfully thrust a doughnut toward my face.

“Are you serious? They have doughnuts?” my face became overly delighted.

Scott looked smug, “No, we stole them from the nurse’s office this morning.”

I nodded at him, giving him a smart looking face, “Well done.”

We walked down the hill toward the lake and I shivered as a strong wind whipped across my body. “Wow, it’s really getting cold,” I gasped.

Scott nodded, “Yeah, soon the snow will come. The change of weather happens so fast here. This is really a two season place, short spring and fall.”

I nodded.

Sarah looked at Scott with amazement, “What happens when the snow pack gets too high, do they still hold class?”

Scott shrugged, “This is sort of a strange college as it is. Think of it like a renaissance classroom, people come and go as they feel or need. It’s just a place to formulate information or spark ideas.” Sarah’s attention was locked on him, “But during the heavy snow, most of us go back to the lower grounds and then just come back in the spring. So more or less, the school closes.”

I nodded. I hadn’t known that, but the thought of going back to Seattle suddenly made my stomach lurch. My love for my foster mother was bitter-sweet. Though I knew I’d miss her, I never really planned on ever going back.

We arrived at the hatchery just in time for class to start. Most of the students were already there so we quickly pushed our way to the back before the professor arrived. I hadn’t really been paying attention as I walked through the crowd. It was obvious everyone hated me, even before they knew me; I didn’t need another glaring reminder. I kept my eyes down until they landed on the familiar gym shoes I’d noticed yesterday.

I froze, my gaze turning up with caution to face him. The new kid’s eyes were still fraught with frustration as he looked me in the eye. He looked as though he was uncomfortable being here, as though the students were infesting his personal space. I scooted away from him a little, crossing my arms and crowding Sarah. I helplessly shrugged as she gave me a strange eye. This new kid had invaded my sacred space in the back of the room and I didn’t like it. I thought I saw him smirk as he turned his gaze back to the front of the class.

The professor walked in then, her entrance just as dramatic as always, if not more and I sighed with discontent over the coming lesson. I felt the new kid look at me again, his face now calmer as I watched him from the corner of my eye. As the teacher began to drone I kept glancing sideways, finally relaxing away from Sarah as boredom eventually set in. After thirty minutes of biting my nails, I was taken by surprise when he leaned in toward me and I gave him a sharp angry glare.

“Hi,” he whispered. His voice was scratchy and gruff as it bristled its way past his pale lips.

He laughed as I looked away from him, my face pursed with irritation.

“I’m Sam,” he continued with relentless dedication.

I refused to recognize his advances. He was making me uncomfortable and I began to fidget with my shirt. He seemed much older, probably closer to twenty-two or twenty-three.

He snorted.

I gave him another rude glare. “What’s your problem?” I finally hissed, giving in and acknowledging his presence.

He smiled. “Nothing, just trying to make friendly banter,” his amber eyes were happy but strange, piercing in a way I had never seen, even from Edgar. As I scanned his face, I noticed how shamelessly scruffy he was, and his hair was just as messed up as yesterday. I looked at his clothes, noticing that he wore the same leather coat and jeans as well.

Sarah looked at me sideways and I rolled my eyes at her. She giggled as she nudged Scott but he only glared at her interruption.

When I turned my gaze forward, Sam was suddenly right next to me. “That wasn’t very nice,” he teased, “I saw you making fun of me.” His mouth twisted into a smile.

I looked at him with awkward disgust, hoping to make him go away. I hadn’t thought he’d notice my eye roll.

“This teacher is a nut job,” he announced, rocking onto his heels with delight.

I squeezed my brows together; feeling embarrassed as a few students around us glared at his remark.

“So are you going to tell me your name?” he asked in a strong voice.

I let out a defiant snort and he looked at me with a sudden sense of knowing.

“Estella right?” He had his hands casually behind his back.

I grumbled at him. “How do you know my name?” I hissed.

He eyed the teacher to make sure she wasn’t noticing the disturbance we were making. “I just heard it around, that’s all. It’s an interesting name, very old fashioned.” He winked at me.

I recoiled at his remark, giving him a sour face. “Well Sam. Then you don’t have to say it, and actually I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

He chuckled, pleased with himself, “Samuel is my full name. If you want to be fair, it’s old too.” His mouth was still maliciously twisted. He was acting like an overconfident jerk, like he was better than all of this. He laughed like a mad man, as though he’d known what I thought of him. I rolled my eyes back to the front of the class and watched the teacher with fake interest. I could feel both Scott and Sarah watching me but I didn’t feel like hearing their thoughts on the awkward situation.

For the rest of the session I was acutely aware of his presence. I refused to look at him, and in that fact, he never said another word. Despite my stubborn stand, I still felt him staring at me, his sharp eyes burning holes through the side of my face as I flushed a bright red. It was strange how he watched me, it felt almost protective and overbearing. When the teacher excused us, I quickly grabbed Sarah and Scott and used them as a shield against his advance.

Scott looked at me, his eyebrows shoved together. “What was that about?” he whispered, ruefully looking behind him, “Do you know him from somewhere? Because it sure seemed like he knew you.”

I shrugged, “I can’t figure it out. He doesn’t seem like the type, you know, to be here.”

He was striding a few paces behind us like a stalker, or perhaps body guard. We arrived at the bird lab and I watched as he brushed passed me and strode to the front like a silent dark cloud. I sat and turned to Sarah, trying to ignore him.

“So Sarah,” I began, “Where will you go for the winter?”

She looked somewhat distracted. “Uh…” her face became terrified as she looked over my shoulder.

I whipped around, only to see Sam now standing behind me with a stool in his hand.

“Do you mind?” His voice was sharp and deep, his face permanently stuck in a stupid smirk.

“Yeah, I do mind,” I spat.

He leaned in toward me, “I realize you hate me, but that’s not really my problem.”

I grumbled at him, crossing my arms and refusing to make room at the table for him.

He sighed, “Ok fine, but only because you forced me to.” He placed two firm hands on either side of my seat as the wrists of his thick jacket inappropriately grazed my hips. He pushed me closer to Sarah as the stool scratched across the floor, making room for his chair as he took an annoyed breath and plopped on his stool next to me. The students that had taken notice of us in the hatchery class continued to stare.

Edgar entered the room then, his stride quick until his gaze fell on my grumpy face and he paused. I watched angrily as his eyes shot to Sam’s, but to my surprise, a crooked smile crossed his face.

I exhaled sharply in disbelief. What was this? I looked at Sam disdainfully, but he just sat there with a stupid content look on his powerful sharp face. I twisted my head to look at Sarah and Scott for some sort of consolation.

“Sorry guys,” I whispered, “I have no idea what this guy’s problem is.”

They both gave me looks of complete surprise as they shrugged, unable to help me discern exactly what was going on.

“Alright class,” Edgar’s voice cut through the air like a knife, “Your papers were good and well thought out, at least most of you,” his dark eyes fell on a somewhat grubby looking student whom began to shake with guilt and fear. “Though a handful of you insist on fairy tales, we all know that science is the only way. I will not tolerate answers like that again. This is not a creative writing class.”

Sam’s body began to shake with laughter and Edgar glared at him over the top of his glasses. After a moment however, he too began to smirk as though some sort of invisible exchange had occurred between them.

Throughout the rest of class they continued exchanging information and I only grew further irritated. It was like they were secretly talking about me through their body language, like old friends, and it was pissing me off. I tried to glare at both of them but they ignored me and I was left staring at their two eerily perfect faces in complete confusion.

When class was over, Sam turned to me with a happy look on his face while mine was still distorted in bewilderment, “Well Estella, it was a pleasure to meet you. See you soon?” But before I could utter a word he was gone.

Sarah and Scott looked at me with baffled expressions. I watched as Scott stood, but instead, I remained seated, sulking like a child.

“Are you staying behind for a bit?” he asked as a sarcastic grin crossed his face.

Sarah glared at his smart aleck remark. “Scott please, what did I tell you?” she whispered, her voice harsh and grumbled.

He smirked again, “Yeah I know,” he paused to compose himself, “I guess we will see you later Elle,” and with that they left, their arms wrapped around each other like four year olds in love for the first time.

Edgar approached me at a saunter, his legs swinging with happiness and a smug look on his face. “Are you giving up on college already?” he breathed, taking a seat on the stool where Sam had just been.

“What was that?” I finally spat.

He let out a deep laugh, “That’s Sam, didn’t he tell you?” His eyes were bright and amused, teasing my intelligence.

I snorted, crossing my arms in a pout, “Yeah, but I think he’s a jerk and I also think he was hitting on me.”

Edgar laughed at me even harder, “No, I doubt that.”

I was steaming now, my face like a red balloon. “How do you know him,” I bellowed.

His laughter faded at my show of anger, “He’s been a student of mine for a while.”

“Well Scott’s never seen him before,” I retorted as Edgar’s face curled into the same malicious grin Sam’s had.

“No, when I say a while, I mean a while.” His head tilted down, his gaze holding mine as he waited for me to get what he was saying.

“Oh,” I suddenly dropped the angry face as I realized that knowing him ‘a while’ meant that he was also like us somehow, immortal. “Well,” I paused, unfolding my arms and placing my hands on the table, “Who is he, and why is he here?”

Edgar leaned his face in toward me with his knees around mine as he scooted the stool closer. He grabbed my hair from around and behind my head and laced it over my right shoulder as he leaned into the contours of my neck.

“He’s doing me a favor, but he’s not one of us. Sam is something else,” he whispered, his hot breath so close to my skin that my body began to anticipate the explosion of life. Just then, I felt his nose graze a spot just under the hook of my jaw. He slowly trailed it down my neck where he pressed his lips against the ridge of my collarbone.

My mind went blank and Sam’s menacing face melted away. All I could feel was the way his lips curled onto my skin, his breathing steady and calm. He leaned his hands down onto my legs as he brought his body closer. He stayed there for a moment before he finally sat back and I relished the beautiful color of his eyes.

“Thanks for that,” he breathed, his chest rising with control and ease.

I smiled for a brief moment before the fire died.

Edgar smiled back, “So, if you’re skipping classes now, do you want to go back to the house with me?”

My mind surged with excitement, “Yeah.”

There was so much there to explore and learn. It was just the thing I was hoping he’d ask. He lifted me from the stool and placed me on my feet with ease, his large muscles flexing. The existence of Sam was still bothering me, and I didn’t understand who or what he was. I couldn’t get over the way he had acted toward me, as though his sole duty was to drive me crazy. And besides, what kind of favor was he doing for Edgar?

I pondered over this fact the whole walk through the woods, but came to no exact conclusion other than if Edgar was trying to remain inconspicuous about who he was, I didn’t think that inviting his tall, strong, handsome, and clearly out of place friend to the college was going to help his situation. When we reached the meadow, he turned to face me and I felt my body tremble in anticipation for his touch.

He grabbed both of my hands with a smile and I kept my eyes wide open, waiting for the wind and swirling so that I could observe exactly how it all worked. A gust tickled at my hair, quickly followed by a heartier blow, and then, it was like being in the eye of a tornado and everything was now crashing around us in a way that would suggest the meadow were destroyed. I tilted my head back and looked up through the eye with my curiosity alive.

Suddenly, the noise ceased and I heard the familiar ticking of the clock in the hall. I smiled and ran into Edgar’s chest as he doubled back, grabbing my hands and pulling them from around his waist and placing them at my sides. He gave me a dark warning glare as I noticed his jaw was tense and his arms flexed.

I smiled playfully as I stepped back, giving him space to re-group.

“Elle you really shouldn’t do that. I am a warrior, and when I get attacked like that, my first instinct is to snap your neck. Do you know how horrifying that sort of thought is to have toward the person I love and need?” He walked toward the library and I dutifully followed as he lounged down on the couch with a sigh.

I frowned, feeling my spirit die, “Sorry.” I sighed. “Are you tired?” I asked, changing the subject.

He gave me a reproachful glare, his hand on his forehead, “How would you be if you’d slept on the floor?”

My guilt thickened, “Oh.”

He laughed at my sad response, his happiness returning. “Tonight I’ll sleep better in my own bed.” He emphasized ‘own’ in a funny matter, a way I couldn’t quite describe.

I frowned. “So you’re leaving me all alone in the cabin?”

Edgar chuckled in a menacing manner, “You think I’m going to let you out of my sight?” he mused, “I’m kidnapping you. Besides, this house is much better than that rickety cabin and I happen to have a lot more comfortable surfaces if you haven’t noticed.”

I gave him a reproachful glare, feeling his power over me. I looked around, finding it undeniable that he was right. Every couch was overstuffed like a giant bean bag of comfort.

“Besides Elle, are you forgetting? This is your home.” He looked up at me, a glare crossing his face that I couldn’t understand. “Last night felt like I was staying in a hotel room and I never do that unless I have to. But, you were worth it.” He gave me an assured smile.

I was blinking at him as the awkward silence between us grew. He leaned forward and grabbed me around my waist and pulled me onto the couch next to him. His face was full of emotion as he inched closer to my face, his breathing fast and heavy. My heart rate beat swift and hard against my chest as his intensity drew closer, all playfulness aside. He was more than a warrior, but a hunter, and I couldn’t help but feel as though at this moment, I was the prey.

I felt his breath fall across my lips and I my lungs ceased. His urgent eyes scanned mine as he weighed the situation and the level of his composure. His breathing stopped as he pressed his soft lips against mine and I sat there in shock, frozen by the feeling I had longed to experience. He exhaled as he let himself go, bringing his hand to my face where he gingerly cupped my cheek, gently curling his lips around mine and molding his body into me.

My heart burst open in my chest, the fire inside me blazing harder than it ever had. The pull toward him became unbearable and I leaned against him, throwing my arms around his shoulders in my foolishness. He jerked away in one sudden movement. Breathing hard as his face became painfully torn between his vices and his virtue.

“Wow,” he gasped. “What are you doing?” he cried playfully. His eyes were pitch-black and I sat back, giving him some space.

“Sorry,” I smiled as the lingering fire inside me dissipated.

“I said it was getting easier Elle,” he teased, “That didn’t mean go for it.” His breathing slowed and his eyes faded to a brilliant blue. “At least I know I’m storing a lot of energy,” he laughed.

I looked at him with innocence.

After that, we kept our distance as I spent a good couple hours simply scanning the shelves upon shelves of books in the library. There were some that looked older than time and some that were shockingly new, including books about the stock market. He watched me pace around the room as he pretended to enjoy a book he had sitting in his lap but he rarely turned the page, suggesting he was more fixated on the company than the entertainment.

After another hour he finally stood, seeing I had grown tired of looking through ancient copies of travel books and Greek lectures.

“Follow me,” his voice was sweet and soft as it cut through the silence, “Let me show you your room.”

ME

I followed Edgar out of the sitting room where we traced back to the entry, it was already dark and I felt relieved that I wasn’t going to have to traipse back through the murky woods alone, especially not with droves of things out there hunting me.

The candles still flickered on the wall and the wax had burnt no further than it had been when we came. The chandelier above us sparkled in its antique glory as it reflected every glint of light and tossed it back toward us. There was so much history here, so many strange things that Edgar, and I suppose I, had collected through the ages.

The granite floors of the entry had given way to marble stairs that were just as worn from time. The same brilliant velvety red wallpaper that was in the sitting room was also carried up the stairs, covered in a substantial layer of dust. I placed one foot on the worn stone, imagining myself doing it a million times before. We walked up the staircase on the left that curved up to a top plateau where it met with the other curved staircase on the right.

There was a shelf at the top of the stairs and my eyes were fixed on it as I followed him into the left wing. A very old book sat alone on the shelf and it caught my eye, making me stop with a sudden skid. I narrowed my eyes at the cover of the book, carefully approaching it as I wondered what sort of book could be so delicately coveted on its very own ledge. I grabbed the book as Edgar turned to see where I had gone. He shuffled back toward me with a crooked smile on his face and his hands casually stuffed into the pockets of his pants.

I ran my hand across the scratchy black cover. “Are you serious?” I asked, looking at him with alarm as I began flipping through the pages, gawking at the handwritten poems that formed in tangled masses before me.

“Well,” he gave me a sly look of pride, “We were friends,” he said frankly, shrugging his shoulders like it was no big deal.

I glanced at the signature page, running my hand over the deep pen scratches. Edgar A. Poe was viciously scribbled into the thick parchment and under the signature it read, “To Edgar, may you always be so obliged to steal my name…”

I snorted, “So, that was why you introduced yourself as Edgar Poe.”

Edgar was gloating now, “He wrote ‘The Raven’ for me.” His eyes glinted and his powdery pearl skin glowed with joy. He carefully pulled his hands from his pockets, taking the notebook from my grasp and flipping to the poem.

I watched in amazement as his face became hard and solemn.

“It was a dark time then, in 1845, and his friendship kept me alive. We suffered together, we suffered over life.” He looked at me with shame, “You had already gone and I was considering…” he paused, the words catching in his mouth, “I was considering suicide.”

Sadness washed over me as the thought sunk in. I saw Edgar alone and helpless, his energy fading and his life over.

His face remained cold and serious, “I was the forlorn student of the poem, the distraught lover slowly descending into madness, and Lenore was you, my lost love.” He chuckled lightly, “He was so inspired by our story, our life.”

Seeing the words, the disturbed and lonely handwriting, made me sad. I felt angry about what I’d done. It was selfish of me to leave him so alone, so dead inside. Edgar reached over my shoulder and put the book on the shelf before me.

“It was forbidden for us to confide in a human like that, to tell them our story, because it leads them to extremes, such as the paranoia of the Salem witch hunts. We have a certain responsibility Elle, to protect them, even from themselves. We are some of the only beings on earth that are close enough to touch the gods. Humans are our children. They were sprung from the same blueprints as us, but without the intensity of power, eternal life, and magic.”

“This is why, in their world, you still see the same struggles as we have. The jealous husbands killing their wives and the wars between men are similar to ours. They are so oblivious to their creation and their importance on this earth. As you’ll see, in time, they will destroy this place, and all of us.”

I felt his body behind me, shadowing mine as his warmth radiated onto me. I stared at the notebook for a moment, lingering. He tilted his head down into the contours of my neck, his breath falling across the curve of my shoulder like a wave of water. I felt as he gently pressed his lips against my milky skin and I shook as the hairs on my neck reacted to his intoxicating touch, joy surging through my veins.

“Edgar Allan was a different kind of human. He was in tune with his creation and because of that, he wrote these beautiful poems, poems that touched humanity in a way no one could describe because it was a life they had long forgotten. I wish he could see us now,” he whispered into my ear, “He would finally believe in the love in which he wrote.”

I slowly turned to face him, my eyes scanning his. His smile was deeply affectionate and overwhelming and his breath sent shivers down my spine.

He laced his fingers through my hair. “Let’s get you to bed,” his voice was inviting and calm.

I nodded as sleep began to tug at my mind.

I followed him into the left wing, uncertain as to what I would find there and no memories came to mind. He looked at the handles on the doors before us with a flash of sadness in his eye. It was as though he was remembering a painful time, a time before this new life, a time when we had a memory to share. I stared up at the large doors. They were Victorian, painted a deep blue with gold leaf framing and hinges. I turned to look behind me toward the other wing. The doors there were cracked open, suggesting that that room was more frequently visited. As he drew open the double doors, a cloud of dust fell across us.

“I’m afraid I haven’t changed it since you left,” he sighed, “I just couldn’t bring myself to come here. It was too painful.”

The candles burst to life as we entered the room and a soft light filled the space. As I looked around, my mind tickled with warmth, like I had been here before in some distant dream. Everything my curious eyes laid upon felt like me, every picture on the wall and every color was a portrait of the soul I’d felt through Edgar’s touch.

The walls were organized, not cluttered as they had been in the rest of the house. The layout of the room seemed practical and the use of space was pleasing. The ceilings were tall, probably eighteen feet, and for a moment, I thought it roughly resembled the Palace of Versailles.

The floor was a dark lacquered cherry and the walls were papered in alternating wide stripes of deep blue and light blue with gold pinstripes painted between each. The ceiling was black as the night sky, making the room seem roofless and open.

I walked to a portrait that was straight ahead of me as its magnificence stole the breath from my lungs. Something about the striking blues and smooth strokes caught my eye. As I glanced at the signature, my eyes struggled to believe what I saw.

I twisted toward Edgar with wide eyes. “This is a Vermeer!” I gasped, staring back at the portrait and noting the date, 1588. Within the glazed layers of paint, a girl sat at a large piano. She was alone except for whomever she was looking to. As I looked closer, I realized she resembled me, right down to my shockingly bright hair, thin features, blue eyes, and pale skin. Despite the physical likeness, something was different. Peering at it some more, I noticed the difference was that all my features were beautifully enhanced. I was a vision, more so than I’d ever seen and I found myself gawking.

Edgar’s honey voice rose behind me, “You just loved him, his style,” he breathed. I turned to look at him and I could see the elation flickering across his eyes.

Everything was so breathtaking, so unreal. “I can’t believe this, I must be dreaming.” As I walked along the walls from painting to painting, each was adorned with another famous name, Rembrandt, Rubens, and Van Eyck.

“Your love for art was insatiable Elle. You were obsessed with its fascination, its mystique.” He stood near the door, careful not to invade my space though it hardly seemed mine.

I watched him for a moment as I struggled to recognize his pose and his expression. His body was almost shaking, and his cheeks were flushed. I realized then just how painfully difficult this all was for him.

“You only deserved the best Elle.” He was acutely aware of the way I had detected him as he tried to look away.

I looked back to the wall as shock overwhelmed me. I had always loved art, of every kind, but this? This was something I could have never hoped to see in my lifetime, let alone own it and also become the subject matter. I urgently wished I could remember what that was like. I wanted to know how it felt to physically see the faces of legend. Each much crisper than a photograph and obviously much more real than the distorted and idealized self-portraits you see now. I pulled myself away from the walls, finally satisfied that I’d given each painting a respectful glance.

Toward the middle of the room there were bolts of rich fabric that canopied a large king size bed that was covered in lavish silks and velvet. The downy comforters were completely messed and I realized what Edgar had meant by never coming here. It was like a scene that had just been left, a life suddenly interrupted. He had literally shut the door on my past, trying with hopeless effort to forget something as familiar to him as his own face. My eyes fell on the disturbed coverings and the shape of where I last laid was still wrinkled into the sheets next to another larger indent that was cradled around mine.

My heart surged with further sadness as the feeling of loss overwhelmed me. I felt like I’d walked in on a scene of someone else’s crushed life. I looked to Edgar but he looked away, pain stinging his eyes. My stomach fluttered with the fear of death as I felt my body shake, my limbs going weak.

I walked toward Edgar as he broke his calm stature. He leaned his strong body against the wall, his arm shaking. My steps were careful and slow as I approached and reached a terrified arm out to him, gingerly cupping his face in my hands.

“Edgar,” I whispered, the grief overwhelming me as my soul burst to life and hot tears began streaming down my face. I leaned in closer so he could feel my warmth, “You’re safe now. I’m home.”

He drew in a shaky breath, his face hallow and worn. His hands dropped from the wall where he wrapped them around my shoulders as I carefully placed my head inside the curve of his neck. His breathing gathered as he placed his hand on the back of my head cradling it as he pulled away.

I could tell he was harassed by his desires and fighting back his demons.

“Well,” he paused, struggling with his words, “goodnight Estella,” he held a nervous grin, though I knew his sadness was far from gone.

I looked at him with eager eyes as he stepped toward the door, “But where will you be?” I asked with a hint of fear in my voice and I thought of the open room across the hall.

“I have my own room. I don’t want to invade,” he sounded so alone and so sad. He wiped the hallowed look from his face, forcing his playfulness to return. “Besides,” he gave me a relived smile, “We’re practically strangers, at least in your world.”

I watched him with care as he nervously fidgeted with his hands and I could tell this made him feel awkward. “But will you stay until I fall asleep?” I asked.

Love was rumbling in his eyes and he smiled. I watched as he walked to a chair that tilted toward the bed and he lowered himself into it. He politely folded his hands across his chest as he smiled at me and I felt content with his position.

I removed my jacket as I walked back toward the bed, hanging it on the enormous frame post and wedging off my boots. This moment felt a lot less awkward than I’d expected. I could feel the room tickling at a memory deep inside but I couldn’t manage to bring it to the surface. I looked down at my clothes. Sleeping in jeans was never my favorite past time, but considering he had suffered on the floor, I figured I could make do.

Edgar seemed to notice how I was weighing my options. “I think you have something you can sleep in over there,” he pointed toward a large four door boudoir in the corner that was only shielded by a standing screen.

I looked at the screen in fascination. There was a golden scene of gently rolling hills embroidered into it and I approached it as the details came to life before me. I ran my hand across the silk thread, so delicately placed that the iridescence amazed me. The thin fibers were rich and soft and each weave was well thought over and expertly placed. I kept my fingers on the thread as I rounded to the back.

My hands moved to the magnificent boudoir that was covered in gold leaf with a matching scene painted on the front. I placed my hand on the latch where it gave with a gentle crack, the doors opening with a calm stretch. My eyes were met by a glamorous collection of clothing as my mouth fell open. I fished through each hanger with excitement as I noticed that the styles spanned decades of time, from renaissance to late Victorian and even Icelandic. After delighting my senses long enough, my eyes fell upon a simple looking nightgown and I pulled it from the closet, holding it before me.

I glanced to Edgar as he eyed me with his hands at his mouth, nibbling on his fingers with discomfort, his nerves shaken. He was observing me rediscover my past with curiosity and wonder, remembering what it was like to have me here. Turning back, I timidly snuck behind the screen to change. A part of me still saw Edgar as a complete stranger and I felt awkward. I wriggled out of my jeans and ripped my shirt over my head. The soft twill fabric of the nightgown made me swoon with delight as I pulled it down over my body, its seams grazing my skin like soft down.

I kicked my jeans to the side as I always did, glancing down and realizing there had also been other clothing kicked there, though it looked old and dusty. I shuddered, thinking it was probably the last time I’d changed, my last day in that life.

Feeling exposed, I popped my head around the screen where Edgar was still watching with intent, taking in the reality that I was back and alive. As I emerged, a look of both happiness and despair crossed his face. I watched him as another tortured tear rolled down his cheek and he did nothing to brush it away.

I could only imagine how it felt for him. The stinging irrationality of the whole experience and the three hundred years he spent alone, only half of himself. My heart sank as I felt small and ashamed at my infinitesimal eighteen years of anguish and depression. I could tell that his gorgeous face was drawn for his physical age, sorely torn from the cruelties of this world.

Walking to the bed, I looked again at the wrinkled impressions. A part of me was scared to disturb something so beautiful. Scared to destroy something I didn’t think was mine. I heard Edgar stand up from the chair behind me, his presence arriving close at my back. His breath blew across the back of my neck and carefully, his arms wrapped around my shoulders and I suddenly felt happiness about this place and a certain beauty in remembering the love.

He pulled my hair away from my cheek as he tilted his head down and next to my jaw, “Elle don’t be sad.” He brushed his lips across my face to my ear as he whispered, “This is how you should feel. Happy.”

The feeling of love pulsed in my veins as he slowly let go, forcing himself to back away where he sunk into the large blue silk chair. I turned and glanced at him over my shoulder, looking for affirmation that all this was indeed mine. Raising my hand above the sheets, I noticed it was trembling. With a soft touch, I placed it on the sheets and the feeling was like heaven, silkier than anything I’d felt before. I slid my other hand across the fabric as I washed away the beautiful indents and delicately crawled in.

I reached for the covers and pulled them up to my face. As they fell around me, I could smell the lingering scent of Edgar wafting out from underneath and it affirmed his presence was once here. I rolled myself into the pillow and the smell there was also eerily familiar and intensely comfortable. Edgar watched me with eyes blue as the sky and slowly, as I tried to force sleep away, my lids became heavy and fell against my will where I fell asleep.

MEMORIES

When I woke in the morning I kept my eyes tightly sealed. Fear gripped me as I wondered if it had all been a dream, a fabricated life that my desperately fogged and depressed mind had created. Everything was very silent except the quick breathing of something beside me. I moved my hand as it fell across a warm feathery lump that was curled into the curve of my hip.

With elated curiosity, I peeked through one eye where the rich and curtained canopy hung above me. Feeling braver, I ventured open the other eye, blinking a few times to remove the blur. The feathery lump to my side was Isabelle and I noticed how her beak was gently tucked under her chest and her feathers fluffed along the length of her back. Her eyes were closed in dreaming and I felt content that it was still truthfully real.

My eyes darted to the chair beside me, but it was long vacant. My heart sunk as I found myself again alone. The morning light poured into the room in bright white waves, brighter than I’d ever seen. For a moment I thought about Edgar, and the life I had now found. The fear of sudden death was so prevalent in this new life, but to feel was more important and I now found that if being with Edgar was dangerous, it was warranted. I would honor my tortured life, and fight to save it.

I slid from under the silky covers as Isabelle yawned with eccentric beauty, rolling her body onto her side as she lazed across the bed.

Sliding my feet along the smooth wood floor, I tiptoed toward a dusty shelf of books that sat across the room from my bed. I squinted at the bindings as I struggled to brush away the cobwebs. The books were vastly different in shape and size, but each was stamped with a concentric but uniform date. I looked at them sideways as my head tilted and my eyebrows pressed together in concentration, my curiosity swimming.

Looking around the room, as though checking to make sure no one was watching, I gingerly hooked my finger into the spine of a random book labeled 1356. I carefully lowered it into my hand, brushing my fingers over the thick leather cover and feeling the indent of the large numbers that were burned into the hide.

I opened it to the middle, allowing the ancient smell of paper to waft across my face. Dust fell to the floor like ash, covering my feet with a thin dirty film. I stared at the familiar writing, my eyes following the words in amaze,

March 11th,

Today Edgar and I came across another couple, it was the first we’d seen in a few years and we began to fear that our population was decreasing, there must be something after them, either that or they’re losing their self control. Edgar seemed only mildly concerned, but for me, fear was swimming inside me like a lead river…

My heart stopped as I read the words, written in my careful and unique handwriting. I quickly flipped to another page,

July 9th,

The heat today was unbearable, though I begged Edgar to leave Paris, he refused.  He said he had a surprise for me. I nearly died when he took me to the bird shop! She’s gorgeous, just the perfect white I’d always dreamed of…

The happiness in my writing was almost surreal and I touched my fingers to the deep scratches, feeling where the excitement of my script became sharp and heavy. My body was now filled with an intense feeling that washed over my thoughts as a million voices began to ramble through my mind. Voices I’d heard before and people I’d met.

I slammed the journal shut, my head splitting in pain as the dust flew out of the pages and settled around me. I was squeezing my eyes shut so tightly that all the light was gone. Each voice that was rushing back to me was like a surge of electricity to my brain, shocking every receptor. Everything was so loud that I barely noticed the doors to my room open as Edgar entered and quietly moved behind me.

I felt a surging fire burst in my heart as he put his hand on my shoulder. I screamed, spinning around and doubling back, my head suddenly dizzy and fogged.

“Elle!” Edgar rushed and grabbed me as I fell, his toxic touch keeping the emotion inside me burning and the voices clear.

I fell to the ground and he released me, stepping back with burning dark eyes. My hip hit the wood floor with a sharp wince of pain and the journal flew out of my hand, sprawling across the wood where it slid under my bed. My breathing was heavy as Edgar stared with a horrified look on his face, his instincts ignited with a dangerous spark of fear.

I put my hand up to calm him as the voices and fire faded, “It’s okay Edgar,” I took a deep breath, bringing my hand to my chest, “You just scared me. You really need to learn how to pre-warn or something, like I said, take up whistling.”

Isabelle was perched on the edge of the bed, gazing at me with blinking eyes, her curious head tilted as I sat on the floor.

Edgar’s terrified face began to relax and his lips curled into a smile, “I’m pretty sure you were the one that startled me,” he retorted smoothly.

I glared at him as I pushed myself off the floor and stood, “Sorry, it’s just that so many things suddenly collided in my mind all at once. I couldn’t help but scream. The voices, the journal, and your lightning touch.” I gasped for air as I steadied myself on the bed frame.

“The voices?” Edgar approached me in slow steps, wrapping one hand around my neck and lacing it through my hair, avoiding contact with my skin, afraid he’d startle me again.

“I was reading those journals, I guess my journals,” I pointed to the shelf, “It was like a rush of memories, or rather people I’d met coming back to my mind.”

He furled his brow, “Well that’s good, you’re beginning to remember.”

I shrugged, “Yeah, but I still don’t exactly get it. It’s like spying on someone else’s life. It feels so wrong, so voyeuristic.” My voice was hopeless and depressing.

Edgar’s eyes were glittering, “Don’t feel that way though, just believe in it,” he put his hand on my chest and I breathed in the feeling, “Believe in yourself, this is your life, all around you.” He put his head into the nook of my chin, tracing his lips upward until they met mine.

I shuddered, the feeling infinitely better than I could ever describe in words. He released his hold on me as he stepped back and my eyes fluttered open again, tears staining my face as they dried into my skin.

Edgar picked the journal up off the floor under the bed and flipped it over. He glanced at the page and smirked, looking at Isabelle before walking to the shelf and sliding it back in its place with respect.

I took in the multitude of journals towering before me, my mind swimming as I realized how immense this all was. “How old are we?” I asked, rather taken back in astonishment.

Edgar’s laughter boomed across the room, causing Isabelle to fluff her feathers in fear, “You are so amusing Elle, especially now.”

I gave him a blank stare, finding no humor in my question.

He beckoned me to come closer to the shelf as he reached to the highest plateau and grabbed the first book, opening it to the very first page,

Rome. Winter 1006,

There is no way to describe this strange place I’ve suddenly found myself, or the strange partner beside me, but something about him scares me, his dark stare. I’ve been running from him all day, but he keeps coming close, this black raven, just staring…

Edgar ran his fingers across the page, “You were always recording our history, it was your thing, your way of keeping your soul open to the world.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “We were born in 1006?” I gasped.

He chuckled, “No, technically in 986. You were born in Rome and I was born in what is now Verona, but you only began writing the first day we met. It was like you were afraid to forget, like some outside force was compelling you to do so.” He snorted, “I guess now, that all makes sense.”

“So we weren’t born in the same place?” I was confused. None of this was fitting together if we were in fact each a half of one. We should have been discarded on earth in the same place.

He smiled, “Like I said, we weren’t really born. We just appeared one day, eternally the ideal age of eighteen and very lost. The gods scattered us as they discarded our two halves from the heavens in their jealous rage.” A smirk crossed his face, “I always figured this was all a game for them and we were the pawns, just struggling to find each other.”

I nodded in confusion, “What happened when we realized we were on earth?”

Edgar shrugged, “We just began living. There was no memory of what happened, we all found out as time went on almost like having amnesia. I can only imagine what it was like when the early couples found each other. They had no knowledge of their lethal attraction. The first to actually survive their initial meeting was a couple named Gloria and Alek.” He smirked as though he’d known them, “They became rather egotistical about it too, but how can you blame them? To us they were like celebrities. We owe them our life. Because of them, we all began to figure it out and I’m sure it enraged the gods when we began cohabitating.”

“So then you knew about the lethal attraction when you first saw me?” I thought about my journal entry, how I had ran from Edgar all day while he chased me in his raven form.

He rolled the journal around in his hands, “I had literally just heard about it and I was skeptical that something like this even existed. But when I found you, I felt the murderous jealousy welling in my heart, right along with the undeniable feeling of love and power. It was so strangely bitter-sweet.” His face suggested he was thinking of the day and his eyes glimmered with remembrance.

I watched him as he placed the journal back on the shelf, “So,” he said with a renewed tone to his voice, “Not to change the subject, but I really came up here to ask you if you’ve looked outside?”

I gave him a strange look, “Why?” My voice sounded tart, and a little irritated.

Edgar motioned me to the tall window draped in silk curtains. As I approached, the light nearly seared my eyes. The fog on the window was thick with moisture and it beaded in cold bands down the glass. I lifted my hand to the pane where I gently rubbed the moisture away. My eyes fell across a meadow of white, completely untouched and pristine.

“Snow?” I gasped, my mouth gaping as I looked out the window.

Edgar stood beside me, defogging his own pane so he could take in the view with me, “Yeah, beautiful isn’t it.” His voice was silky as it fell across the glass.

A light snort escaped my lips, “So much for fall.” My eyes were wide, drinking in the pureness of the snow, each drift like whip cream.

Edgar let out a heavy laugh, “Fall is dreary anyways, especially in this climate. So really, what are you missing?”

I looked at him awestruck. It was so utterly beautiful. I had never seen it like this and it was just so clean and perfect.

“Shall we go outside then?” he asked, a crooked smile on his face. “I doubt there’s any rush to get you back for class. It’s likely no one will go.”

I nodded with eager anticipation and his eyes filled with elation.

“Well then get dressed,” he pointed toward my closet as he briskly walked for the door, “I’ll just be downstairs. I need to get a few things ready.”

He exited then, his gate steady and swift.

Isabelle playfully clicked her tongue at me and I walked away from the window and scratched her on the head as she fanned her feathers. I’d had Isabelle for hundreds of years and now, she felt much more significant to me than just a pet. She was kin.

Feeling a surge of energy, I was quick to dive behind the screen where I opened my closet. I was still amazed by the vast collection before me. Sighing with delight, I shuffled through what seemed like bolts of silk and cotton. The daunting task was overwhelming and I actually broke a sweat. Finally, I was able to find some almost modern pants that resembled something like riding pants you would wear to ride horses, but it would have to do. Besides, I wasn’t about to wear a dress so I made a mental note to go back to the cabin later and collect my jeans.

Pushing back a row of ball gowns, I found where I’d stashed my shoes. I riffled through cluttered piles of custom tailored dress heels and slippers before laying my eyes on a pair of shearling boots toward the back. They looked handmade and I couldn’t help but wonder where I had acquired something so artistic, beautiful, but at the same time functional.

I stood back for a moment to regroup before delving back in. There was a large collection of shirts, each eerily perfect for me. I chose a cream colored wool thatched blouse and a thick twill vest that naturally showed off my figure. I walked to the mirror, admiring my collection of clothes, far richer than anything I’d ever worn.

Looking to the vanity, I grabbed a brush from the top and patted it against my leg to remove the dust. I ran it through my hair a few times before placing it back in the exact spot I had taken it from and then roughly knotted my locks behind me.

I took a deep breath and turned away from the mirror, walking with haste out the door as my boots treaded across the floor. Isabelle flew up behind me and landed on my shoulder just before I shut the doors. As I trotted down the stairs I couldn’t help but feel amazing, almost like the residual burning in my soul was leaving a smoldering verve that allowed me to feel a hint of excitement and joy.

Edgar was standing at the base of the stairs, leaning against the railing, his body flexed and radiant. His eyes blazed a beautiful blue against his dark wool coat, like diamonds. He watched me in utter disbelief as I stepped onto the granite of the entry with Isabelle poised on my shoulder. His eyes were now smoldering with seduction and his body was shaking as though he’d seen a ghost.

“I just can’t believe it. It’s so surreal seeing you like that.” He looked at my outfit with approval, “Beautiful,” he whispered as he moved in close, raising his hand to graze Isabelle on the head before turning his gaze to me.

He tilted his head toward my ear and leaned into my neck. I shuddered as he brushed his cheek along mine, his lips grazing my chin before resting gently on my nose. I giggled, the soft touch tickling my senses and igniting my soul.

His lips curled into a smile against my skin, his breath warm and inviting, “Are you ready?” he whispered as he stepped away, a mischievous smile snaking across his face.

“What exactly should I be ready for?” I inquisitively looked at him sideways.

There was a deep laugh growing in the back of his throat as a white coat materialized from behind his back. I gave him a skeptical glance as he draped the thick wool around me. The pure white fur on the hood brushed against my cheeks and I found it was softer than anything I could imagine. He dutifully pulled the hood over my bare head, making sure that I was properly bundled.

“You know, fur like this might make some of the students down there a little angry.” I brushed my hand from one side of the hood to the other. The luxurious touch was like lacing your hands through the clouds.

He laughed, “Well this coat was made when it was a matter of survival, not commodity, so they can deal.” He kissed me on the forehead before leading me through a door to the far left, just beside the grandfather clock.

“Where are we going?” I asked with immense curiosity.

He turned his head and looked over his shoulder, the glint of his eyes just visible, “To the garage.”

I crumpled my brow. “There’s a garage?” I asked in disbelief.

He chuckled, “Of course there’s a garage, what did you expect, a barn full of Clydesdales?” His sarcasm was thick.

I looked at his back with a sour glare, my ego damaged, “Well everything else you have is so old fashioned, how was I supposed to know?”

He glanced over his shoulder, “I will agree, there are some things that never should have been modernized, but there are other things, brilliant things, I couldn’t imagine we ever lived without. It’s all about finding a happy medium Elle.” He winked and then turned back forward as we continued down a long hall.

He had a good point. Candlelight was certainly more attractive then halogen.

“I built the garage in 1885 when Mr. Benz and I finally discovered how to apply a combustion system to a hunk of rolling metal.” He was talking as he faced forward and his voice echoed through the dark space before us.

“Mr. Benz?” I gasped, my gate breaking to a slight run in order to keep up with him, “As in Mercedes-Benz?”

We had finally arrived at another door and he opened it with a gruff pull, “Yes, but Mercedes came much later, in 1901 when he merged ideas with Wilhelm Maybach.”

Candles again erupted on the walls as my gaze fell on a long narrow alleyway. My mouth hung open in disbelief. There before me was a very old car, something I didn’t recognize, but knew was important.

“What…” I choked on disbelief in my throat. “You, or I mean, we have cars? But we live in the woods!”

A surprised laugh filled the room, “Doesn’t matter. I take them out at night anyways.”

“But there are no roads!” I gasped, walking toward the first car in a line of about fifty that stretched as far as I could see.

He laughed at me again, “You really are forgetting aren’t you? You just have to visualize the roads Elle. Where’s your creativity? We’re magical. We can do a lot of things you wouldn’t think were possible.” He had a teasing grin painted on his marble face. “Just think about it, you’ll see what I mean soon enough.”

“Gas?” I ventured.

“Don’t need it,” he said simply.

I looked at him and rolled my eyes in irritation. My fingers ran across the familiar three point star Mercedes-Benz logo I had learned to associate with the well-to-do upper class, but never me.

Each car in the line looked successively newer as we strolled down the length of the long garage. I noticed he seemed to have a thing for black, finding every car appeared sleek and sharp as a result. Each panel of highly waxed aluminum glowed like gems in the candlelight, showcased in a way that seemed like bragging, though I doubt he had ever shared them with anyone, at least not many. I found myself amazed at how all this could possibly fit in the meadow, but then again, if I used my imagination as I was told, I could manage to make it feasible.

Edgar watched me as we approached the end where I gasped, bringing my hand to my mouth. There, in all its rusty and worn down glory, sitting between a nineteen eighties El Camino and a first generation Hummer, was my green Datsun. It stood out amongst the pristine beauty of all his black cars and I cringed, suddenly embarrassed by my once proud buy. My eyes whipped toward him with my mouth sealed in doubt.

His eyebrows rose with skepticism, “I must say, your addition to our collection is surely…” he fought to find the right words, something that wouldn’t bruise my ego. I had worked so hard to earn it, and to think, all that torture for nothing. “It’s definitely colorful,” he mused.

I stared at my car for a moment before ripping myself away, watching Edgar as he approached the last thing in the garage, exponentially smaller than all the other vehicles and covered by a thick canvas tarp. My eyes lied to me as my mind struggled to accept the somewhat familiar shape I’d seen in the windows of REI back home. Edgar looked at me with a playful eye, grabbing my hand before ripping off the cover. My eyes lit up and a vivacious smile crept across my face, my mouth exercising muscles I’d never used.

I yelped in excitement as my soul burst with joy and pumped my veins full of sweet intoxicating adrenaline, “It’s a snowmobile!”

SNOWDAY

Edgar slowly released my hand and my joy faded to a gentle whisper of eagerness. He folded the canvas tarp and tossed it aside. The black snowmobile looked brand new and I assumed it was because he had upgraded to a model made for two passengers instead of one.

“I’ve been dying to take this out.” The look on his face was purely male, an inherent craving for everything fast and gassed.

“No horses then?” I teased.

He laughed, “Oh we can do that too, but unfortunately, you’d have to go out and find some first and these days wild horses are hard to come by.”

I could tell he was saying that just to appease my girly desire for a pony.

He threw his leg over the saddle of the snowmobile and reached out for me with a gloved hand, “Don’t worry, its safe. I promise.” His eyes were a stormy blue and he winked at me as his beautiful smile made me weak.

My gentle fingers touched his thick gloved hand and I was surprised that only a faint fire emerged in my soul. I glanced down at our grasp, confused.

He chuckled again, “It’s the gloves Elle. Skin on skin is the most powerful connection for us, but this way, I will be able to handle your terrified iron grip around me as we fly through the woods, much like when I carried you from the meadow,” there was a dangerous yet playful glimmer in his eye and I gave him a warning glare.

“You better not kill me Edgar Poe.” My voice lashed at him but he only smiled more, causing my blood to boil with fury. I didn’t know what it was like to be him, to feel the vindictive evil inside yourself, always held at bay, but he made it seem easier than he suggested, allowing me to trust him.

I swung my leg over the seat and locked my arms around his chest, squeezing them together as hard as I could. His strong body felt amazing under my touch and I could feel every muscle as it tightened against my grip, like a machine of fury and power. This was more contact then we’d ever had and I reveled in the moment, taking a deep breath and then locking it away. I shuddered, my soul pulling me against him, becoming one.

There was just enough fire in my heart to muster a smile as I closed my eyes, the door before us crumpling open with a sore shake. My eyes opened then, the fresh crisp daylight air pouring in over us.

“Can’t someone see this? Or even hear this?” I asked, yelling over the winy rumble of the motor and the screaming of the garage door.

He twisted his head back, “Nope. Not until the snowmobile hits the snow. Right now we’re still invisible to them, even the noise.” His voice boomed over the engine, echoing through my bones.

I felt Edgar press down hard on the throttle and we jerked forward as we burst out onto the blanketed white meadow and the loud wining suddenly became muffled by the thick billowy snow that now churned through the belts. A few flakes fell like cotton from the sky, hitting my face with a cold sting as they melted onto my skin. Edgar drove with control across the untouched meadow and into the woods as the trees shook the snow from their branches. He expertly dodged trees and fallen trunks and I felt my grip relax as I allowed myself to sit up and view my surroundings.

I became aware of what Edgar had meant as I noticed the trees and roots make way for us, as though creating a sort of path or road, the perfect size for us to pass. Because of this, the ride was very smooth, and I found it easy to enjoy myself and the magic of the day. My soul was flying and I took a few deep breaths as I absorbed the sensation, trying hard to remember every glimmer and pulse. To my right, my eyes caught a glimpse of two elk that loped playfully alongside us through the icy fog, just a few feet away. They darted through the trees with an expertise I wish I could possess, the forest floor like a trampoline.

We drove for a ways up the gently sloping mountainside, passing scenic frozen rivers and icy cliff’s covered with sheets of glassy waterfalls. Wherever we were going, Edgar seemed to know the way.

As we rounded onto a sort of plateau, he slowed to a halt and cut the engine in one seamless movement. He easily pried my iron grip from around him as he looked at me over his shoulder. My breathing was fast and silent, falling upon the snow in a muffled wave as though my ears had been capped with cotton, the sound of the snowmobile still reverberating in my mind. His brilliant eyes glimmered against the white backdrop as he worked to catch his excited breath, his gaze searching mine in silence, roaring with intense desire and love, death and fury.

He stood from the snowmobile, grasping my hand and hoisting me off with ease as he lifted me into his arms. His breath flowed across my face, his eyes still watching mine. As he stared, the muted tones allowed for the blue hues of our existence to brilliantly shine. I could feel his chest rising against mine as he tilted his head down and pressed his frosty lips against my warm skin, causing me to shiver.

He smiled against my lips as he released his strong grip, “Amazing isn’t it.” He watched as my gaze fell from him to the trees.

We had stopped in a grove of maples that had been stripped of their summer leaves and were seemingly shivering under their cold dusting of snow.

“I’ve never seen anything like it in my life,” a sharp breath of amazement passed my lips.

I noticed Edgar smirk as he grabbed my hand and we approached one of the trees, “Sure you have.” His eyes urged me to look at the trunk more closely.

I struggled to focus on the shapes that had been burned into its skin, deep like a strike of lightning. I reached my hand up to the scar and traced the seared outlines of two ravens, both looking skyward and to the right. He then pulled me to a trunk a few paces away. Two other ravens were etched there, facing toward the sky and to the left.

When I’d had a satisfied look, he pulled me back to the center of the two trees, still grasping onto my hand with an urgent grip. I looked up and saw that the trees mirrored each other like a couple as though each others perfect halves. Edgar gently released his grip on my hand, pulling his glove off and stuffing it in his pocket. His warm hand laced through my icy fingers as my soul was suddenly sweltering more than ever.

“What can you see here?” he asked, a smirk still coiling his lips and his eyes calm.

I gave him a confused look as the warmth inside me began to pulse through my veins, “What do you mean?”

“Imagine anything you want. Imagine what you’d wish for these trees to be.” His eyes burned like sapphires, testing me.

I thought hard for a moment, finding it easier than ever to clear my thoughts. I closed my eyes, imagining the trees twisting, shaping themselves into an embrace, and finding their happiness as one. I kept my eyes tightly sealed as I heard the sound of crackling branches, much like the sound of burning wood in a hearth.

When I opened them, Edgar stance was proud and amazed at the trees before us. A few tufts of snow fluttered to the ground in their disturbance from the branches above and my breathing was now quick and sharp.

“Just as always,” he breathed as he released his grip on my hand and dropped it to his side, giving it a shake as though our touch had hurt him.

I looked at the trees in utter amazement and a painful smile tugged at my weak facial muscles. There before us, the trees had intertwined their branches, braiding into a large breathtaking arch. In the middle of the arch two branches cascaded down in the middle and leveled out into a swing.

Edgar allowed a soft snort to escape his lungs, “Something like this would take a botanist decades to manipulate.” he smiled at me as his eyes became dangerous and dark as he stepped away from me, retrieving his glove from his pocket.

He pulled the leather over his strong hand and then grabbed my cold fingers again as his gaze calmed. Stepping forward, he pulled me toward the swing. I sat down with care as the trees yawned under my touch, bursting to life in an instant shroud of brilliant green leaves. I laughed as amazement and love filled my soul.

Edgar took his seat next to me, “See Elle, I could never harm you. All the magic in my world would be gone, and all the beauty. My love for you is too great and so much more brilliant than anything else,” The look on his face was genuine and soft and his hand was warm as he cradled mine inside it.

I still did not fully understand my own power, nor could I imagine what it was like to have it as my own. Edgar had kept things a secret, as though afraid to let me know the real truth, but at this point, I didn’t really care either, this was information enough. I looked above me, admiring the branches as they continued to twine themselves together, alive with life. I saw the power of our being, our existence, and how important it was for us to be together. We had a pre-determined love greater than anything in human existence, and I knew the strength of it would keep me alive forever.

We swung for a while in silence, and my mind began to clear. Suddenly, I thought about Scott and Sarah, and I turned to Edgar as apprehension began swimming in my eyes, “What about class?” I asked as I found myself frantic.

He laughed, “Like I said, with the snow, I doubt anyone is there, besides, I don’t think you’d really be learning a whole lot more right now, not more than this.” He motioned his hand to the trees. “There is no point for you to ever go back if you don’t want to. You already know it all but your mind is trying to keep it from you. That’s why learning comes so naturally.”

“Yeah,” I paused, accepting what he was saying as a truthful statement. It was true I never needed to go back, or did I really want to other than to see Scott and Sarah. It was so amazing to finally have friends and I didn’t want to have to give that up. “But then what about your class?” I asked, remembering there was more to this than just me.

He snorted, “That’s not really my top priority,” he looked at me, love boiling in his gaze, “You’re all that matters now. You are my life.” His face looked pained and urgent. “Besides, I put together a very convincing substitute lesson plan,” a grin returned to his smooth lips, “And in about two weeks, most will be going home for the winter anyways.”

I looked at him confused, “But won’t they wonder where you went, where I went? Even just for the week?”

His lips coiled in amusement, “Oh I’m still teaching, I just made a sort of hallucination of myself, a holographic replacement, sort of like a ghost.” Arrogance gripped his face, “And you, I told all your professors I was going to be teaching you personally because you needed the discipline, and you had a lot of potential.”

I smiled back, feeling the small fire inside me keeping my delighted feelings alive through our obscured touch. The quiet of the woods was breathtaking and the snow was more than I could have ever imagined while back in Seattle.

“Edgar?” my voice sounded angelic as it left my lips, “Will we ever die?” The cryptic question felt like an omen.

His face sunk into a solemn line, “No.” Though it was a delightful idea, I could tell it had worn on him. “We will live forever,” he continued with a sudden smile, “together.”

Despite his facial expression of both happiness and despair, his reply reassured me. The idea of eternal life seemed so sweet, but seeing Edgars suffering also offered me the bitter side, and the possibility of eternal pain. We rocked in silence as we both considered the matter to ourselves. Edgar’s grip tightened on my hand, almost crushing my fingers, but it felt safe. I felt so natural with him, so at home, and I was going to try my hardest to protect him as well.

An hour passed of complete silence before Edgar finally stood, “Shall we get back?” his voice sounded distant.

I nodded, swallowing hard as I pushed myself off the swing as the branches began to untangle as they relaxed back to their previous stance. The leaves withered and fell to the ground, leaving a blanket of rusty foliage at their base, slowly being buried in the snow that was now falling in heavy drifts.

We crawled back onto the snowmobile and I wrapped my arms around Edgar, lacing one hand into his coat and pressing it gently against his ribs. I felt his heart racing as we took off and I rested my tender head against his back.

When the trees finally opened into the meadow I sat up as I wondered how we’d get back inside. He was racing full speed toward the center of the opening as a sudden watery wall appeared before us. We crashed through the screen as it rippled and Edgar twisted the handlebars and the snowmobile began to skid, narrowly crashing into the back wall of the garage.

I gasped, digging my fingers into his jacket. He cut the engine as he winced at my painful grip like a scared cat.

“Geez Elle,” his face was contorted into a pained mask, “With that claw like grip I’d figured you found out how to become a raven again.”

I laughed, “Yeah sure, I wish.” I rolled my eyes as he pried my hands apart.

He twisted in his seat, throwing his legs around until he faced me. He placed his hands on my knees. “You will remember,” he breathed.

Without hesitation he grabbed my face between his still gloved hands, his eyes a steady opalescent blue. He leaned in and pressed his lips against mine and our breathing became fast and urgent. His breath was intoxicating as our lips molded together and his hand moved to my back where he pressed his body against mine.

I gave in as I grabbed at his coat, his grip now grasping mine in a way that seemed dangerous, as though trying to stop. I froze, stopping myself as I realized he may not. I gently pressed him away from me, placing my hands back into my lap as I quickly stood and backed away, a tightness forming in my chest and choking in my throat. Edgar was gripping the seat of the snowmobile, his face twisted as though ashamed. I pouted slightly before finally laughing as I noticed his navy eyes return, and the feeling in my chest subside.

“It seems I do have the ability to save myself.” I put my hands on my hips with a smug smile.

His face was still a little shocked, but melting as a smile emerged. “Good thing too,” he shook his head and stood, throwing his leg off the seat in a fog of emotion.

He looked away, grabbing the cover and throwing it over the snowmobile. A look of satisfaction finally crossed his face as he grabbed my hood and pushed it off my head. “Thank you,” he whispered, leaning in and softly kissing my forehead with renewed control before slowly resting his head against mine, his frozen nose hooked in the angle of my brow. He lingered there for a moment before pulling back, his face fresh and his cheeks kissed by the wind.

I smiled, “You’re welcome.”

His eyes glittered slightly, “Are you hungry?”

MATTHEW

So what would you like?” Edgar stood across the gleaming copper counter from me, his long sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing his strong forearms.

I had a thick silk and wool robe wrapped around me and my hair was still damp from the searing shower I’d subjected my chilled body to. My cheeks felt red hot and I was certain I was flushed from my body’ss need to overcompensate for the lack of warmth of being outside.

I shrugged, unable to summon an idea, my stomach too hungry to think.

His lips rounded and his eyes narrowed, “I know just the thing.” He went to the antique icebox where he retrieved three small blue eggs from within. He balanced them on the counter before untangling a towel in a basket to the far right and retrieving two pieces of bread.

I watched him with a curious mind as I looked around the kitchen. Everything was covered in copper sheeting, from the counters to the antique Victorian hood that hung over an open fire, molded with a beautiful scene of two Ravens in a field of fruit. The kitchen was ‘U’ shaped and located just to the right as you walked from the front hall to the back of the house. The island I sat at was located in the middle of the space where two bar stools were bellied up on the outer left side.

To my back was the sitting room he had brought me to the first night which looked through to the library that was toward the front of the house. The whole layout didn’t make much sense but being that the house was invisible in space, almost like part of a whole other dimension, I guess it didn’t have to.

The fire crackled, filling the room with a warm smoky haze and an ambiance that made me feel cozy and safe. Edgar cracked the three eggs into a pan and set them close to the heat to cook. He then hung the bread in a basket above the flames to toast.

He sighed, noticing me as I watched him, “I could never get used to the modern stoves. You just don’t get the same flavor.” Laughing, he strolled back toward me where he reached across the cold counter and cradled my hands between his.

I smiled at him.

“Have you begun to remember anything, about your former life?” he urged as I felt his toxicity pour through me.

I searched my mind, finding it silent and clear. There were faint voices hanging in the distance, but I still could not match them with the faces that flashed like cards before my eyes. The house only seemed vaguely familiar, as though I knew my place here, but still couldn’t recall exact moments.

“Sort of,” I crumpled my brow, “But none of it makes any sense.”

His eyes were deeply faceted as they reflected the burning candles. He let go of my hand and gave me a crooked smile, standing back a bit and poising himself in a strange manner. I watched in amazement as he began to spin and there was a swift burst of energy as wind whipped around the room, papers and pans shaking in its wake.

I gasped, a slight giggle bursting from my throat as the residual flame in me faded. Edgar stood on the counter before me, his eyes a beady blue and his pearly feathers glittering like glass. I reached out and carefully rubbed the feathers on his head, knowing that they were sharp. They instantly fluffed and my soul surged as a laugh echoed through the house.

“You’re so beautiful,” I announced with amaze.

Edgar’s talons scratched against the copper as he spun before me, modeling his new look. As I looked at his claws I saw that counter was now deeply etched and I laughed.

“You’re ruining your house!” I yelped and he lunged toward me, a sharp “caw!” escaping from his solid beak. “Okay, our house,” I giggled.

He stepped back, his eyes blinking and his beak open.

The raven that stood before me was no longer threatening or sinister. As I looked at him, my heart smiled. His beautiful armor was more stunning than the singular feather and his wings were strong and proud. He spread his wings and began slowly flapping them as he lifted off the counter and twisted back into his human form.

Edgar ran his hands through his ruffled black hair, smiling slyly.

“That’s so amazing!” I looked at him wide eyed, realizing how handsome he now looked. “I wish I could do that.”

He smiled, “Of course you can.” He furled his brow, “But I don’t think you could do it without your soul back, it’s not like I could hold your hand through all the commotion. But I would love nothing more than to see you like that again.”

I thought about it for a moment, “What is it exactly that you do?” I paused, clarifying my question, “To turn like that?”

Edgar twisted to the fire and flipped the tiny eggs in the air, “You have to visualize it. See yourself as the raven and then feel your body being weightless.” He stood and returned to the counter.

I glanced at him, finding it hard to envision his large body becoming weightless.

“It’s a feeling that comes from inside, from your core.” He looked so passionate when he talked and I could see how it would be near impossible for me to accomplish the transformation like he’d said.

“It’s like you’re indestructible, all your feathers are like knives.” I looked at my finger where I had previously cut myself.

He knelt again and adjusted the eggs, “It’s pretty handy and certainly makes it easy to kill spies.”

I shuddered, thinking of the sound that day in the meadow, the sounds of death.

Isabelle landed on the counter next to me, startling me as she began clicking her tongue.

Edgar snorted, “Greedy little thing aren’t you?” He gave her a reproachful smile. She clicked her tongue again as Edgar picked one fried egg up with a fork and tossed it to her.

Her beak snapped as she dodged to catch the egg before it hit the counter. She tilted her head at me and her eyes were full of satisfaction as she seemed to wink. The egg hung from her mouth, flapping as she twisted her body around and took off, flying across the room and through the window between the sitting room and library where she twisted up through the loft ceiling to the railing above.

Edgar grabbed two crystal plates from the cabinet, putting one toasted piece of bread on each. He then stabbed the eggs and placed one on each of the two toasts. He placed one plate on the counter before me, the robin’s egg small and delicate. I watched as he walked to the cabinet where he grabbed a bottle containing an amber liquid from deep within. He shook it gently before uncorking the top and I pushed my brows together in frustration, huffing with shock as he poured the thick syrup over my egg and toast.

“What are you doing?” I squealed.

He laughed, “Trust me, you love this. Just try it.”

I winced as he pushed the plate that was swimming in maple syrup toward me. He handed me a fork with a mused grin on his face as he leaned down and put his elbows on the counter, cradling his head in his hands to watch.

I eyed the plate he had sheltered between his arms with a hungry desire, his egg and toast void of syrup. With disdain, I lifted the fork to the center of the yolk, pressing down as it popped open, spilling its yellow goop into the syrup and over the bread. I gagged slightly and Edgar forced back a choked laugh.

With extreme apprehension, I brought a small piece to my mouth, the smell surprisingly sweat and almost smoky. As I touched it to my tongue, I furled my brow as I concentrated on the taste alone, ignoring the texture completely. Chewing with determination, I found myself utterly surprised. The flavors were beyond amazing and the sweet syrup mixed with the thick yolk and grainy bread burst across my mouth, hitting every taste bud.

My eyebrows shot up. “Wow.”

Edgar’s hearty laugh filled the room as he put his hands on his stomach to calm his breathing. “I told you,” he snorted, “I guess I know you better than you know yourself.” He gave me a playful wink.

Still skeptical of the egg I took another bite, finding it as gorgeous as before. “Well when you don’t even know yourself, that’s not very hard,” I added with a full mouth.

Edgar nodded in compliance, “Very true.”

Later that afternoon, I quietly sat in my room with a dozen journals lying open around me. There was no sound anywhere except that of my furtive swallows as I scanned my words with grit, trying hard to remember my life. Every entry was loaded with emotion and happiness. The discovery of my gift, the way it grew over time, and then the day that I even created this forest with my talents of nature.

And then there was the end where my writing turned sinister and scared. I flipped through the pages, my heart pounding hard in my chest, as though remembering the feeling and the uncertainty. It was suspenseful as the last few entries turned frantic and short,

October 10th, 1708

He’s coming closer. I can feel his hunger in my soul. My mind is fogging. The evil that seeps from his blood is dark and sinister, a hundred souls dying because of his thirst. Edgar seems unfazed, but he’s the rock, my protector, I just hope when the time comes, I’ll know what to do…

That was the last thing I wrote. I gave myself no clues, no way of knowing how to unlock my soul and get it back. I looked toward the paintings on the wall. How could I give up this life so easily, how could my stubborn heart surrender before the fight?

Closing my eyes, I slowly brought each remembered image back into my peripherals, noting the facial structures and mannerisms of each. One face kept flashing into my view, someone deeply disturbed, with eyes so hollow he may as well be nothing more than a corpse. The memory caused a fear to well in my chest, and it began tightening my lungs as I tried hard to remember his name.

As the image lingered, I remembered what Edgar had told me, the name of the sorcerer that had come for us and had murdered so many others. Deep in the back of my mind I uttered the words as the face nearly fell away, Matthew. My heart lurched as a fire seared through it and I struggled to hide the pain. I closed my eyes and forced myself to concentrate on the face, making myself recall the horrible day I’d suppressed so painfully.

There was a soft knock on my door and I snapped out of my mind, instinctually wrapping my robe around me even tighter. Edgar peeked in and then entered the room, afraid to startle me again. He was freshly shaved and now wore a finely tailored suit as my eyes fell upon him with hunger. I had never seen him look so handsome, so beautiful.

“Am I disturbing you?” He looked sheepish and alone, tired of spending time by himself for so long. It was unfair of me to lock myself up here, away from him. I could see in his face he was desperate to see me, desperate to spend time with me and have me back.

I shook my head.

He leisurely approached my bed, sitting on the edge, “I was bored,” a smile crept onto his face, his powerful back slouching over slightly.

The candles in the room came to life with the sudden receding daylight. I looked around at the new light that was now cast upon the walls and his face  took on a romantic warm hue.

“I had an idea,” he looked at me with fire in his eyes. He eagerly stood and walked to the boudoir where he opened it with a lingering reservation as though I were still gone, as though he was still afraid to disturb that past life. I heard him rustle through bolts of fabric before finally halting as he pulled a massive sapphire blue pile from within.

I gave him a strange, almost disgusted look, “Exactly what are you proposing?”

He smirked, “I’m not proposing anything. We hardly know each other. Something like that would probably be irresponsible.”

I nervously exhaled at his reference to marriage, and a notion crossed my mind that hadn’t before. I had never thought to really bring it up, nor did I really want to, but a part of me still wondered if we’d ever been married. There was nothing that I had found in the journals, but there had also been missing pages.

As he held the gown in his grasp I saw that his face was hiding something, something I figured he’d know I’d refuse to do. “I was just wondering if you’d like to dance,” he said lightly, a look I couldn’t refuse crossing his face.

I snorted, “Yeah right, I’ve never danced in my life.”

He gave me a skeptical glare. I knew I’d loved to dance, my journals spoke of nothing else, but I still figured I’d try to deny it. There was no way my current self could recall dance moves. I faked a smile as he tilted his head and gave me a look of disbelief.

“Oh come on,” his eyes flashed with a seduction I couldn’t deny. “It will be fun.”

I sighed and gave in, figuring it was better to do physical activities to try and jog my memory rather than just sit here locked in my room, desperately searching books and trying to force it from my blocked mind.

Crawling from the bed, I grabbed the pile of silk and gave him a sulking look of surrender as I stormed behind the screen. He laughed at my less-than-thrilled attitude as he watched me storm off, diligently standing on the other side of the makeshift wall and waiting as I wrestled with the fabric.

I finally slid the bodice over my chest and reached to try and fasten the string when I froze. Edgar bravely walked around the screen behind me and I could feel his gaze as he watched me. For a moment we just stood there in silence, and then slowly, his fingers touched the small of my back, tracing up my spine before finally resting at my neck. I shuddered, giving in to his soft warm touch.

A deep exhale escaped his lips as his hands worked at the strings, tightening them each with a soft and forceful tug, the whole time remaining unspoken. When he reached the top, I felt him tie a perfect bow. I was breathing in measured increments as he twisted his hands into my hair, grasping it and gently pushing it aside as it cascaded down my chest. I tilted my head to the side as he leaned toward me. His lips parted as he kissed me at the base of my neck and his hands grazed down my arms.

With a shaky exhale, he stepped away and I opened my eyes where I looked at myself in the mirror. An image flashed across my mind, one of happiness. In the memory, I was wearing this dress but the look of my eyes and skin were different, unreal.

“You look beautiful Elle,” his silhouette was reflected next to mine in the mirror and I watched his eyes with intensity, wondering what came next.

The dress was exquisite, fitting me as though it had been tailored only for me. There were Tahitian blue pearls lining the hem and deep blue opals sewn down the bodice, and I instantly recognized why he’d picked this particular gown as the gems complimented his eyes, and mine. The overall weight of the fabric was exhausting, but I wasn’t about to take it off either.

I had never been the type to go to school proms, finding them childish and strange, let along the fact that I’d never been invited. My mind had always rebelled against anything that was group related, anything that reminded me of the fact I didn’t belong. In my journals however, it had seemed as though I was the center of attention, and the rock amongst many in my previous life. It was hard to fathom this other being, a strong and confident woman, not the scared child I saw today.

Edgar reached into his pocket and slowly drew out a matching string of blue pearls from within. He laced his hands around my neck as he softly draped his fingers across my collarbones.

My heart melted and I turned to face him. He smiled once before taking my hand and pulling me toward him as the heavy silk grazed the floor and I stood on my toes, barefoot. He led me downstairs, one hand behind his back as his other cradled mine. As we descended the stairs I felt like royalty and the fact of time fell away. He rounded me into the front entry as the cold granite chilled my feet. He stepped toward me with one strong measured step and like a forgotten instinct, my feet moved as though controlled by a puppeteer. His firm grip guided me, twirling my frame as my dress flew out around me.

I laughed as music began to play and I gave him a corny face, “Where is that coming from?” I asked, somewhat surprised.

He laughed, lifting one eyebrow, “The CD player.”

I giggled as he pulled me toward him and rested one hand on the small of my back, the other still cradling my grasp, “So you don’t believe in light bulbs, you do believe in cars, you don’t have a TV, but you have a CD player?”

He nodded with a frank look on his face, “CD’s don’t take up as much space as a piano.” His smirk was priceless.

I snickered, his eyes a deep blue and the clouds behind them moving in slow waves, “I want to stay here forever.” I looked at him, and this time it was me who leaned toward him, standing on my toes to kiss him.

A deep exhale left his lips as I rested back. “I want you to stay also,” his eyes were sad. “I will never let us part again. Life without you is too painful, it’s not worth living.” He pressed his lips to my forehead as we slowly spun, “I realize now that I had no clue how I did it for so long.”

He twirled me away, pulling me back and cradling my head with his hand as he dipped me down, slowly pulling me back.

We danced in silence and I remembered every step like it was something I’d done all my life. He held me close as his scent fell around me, intoxicating in its exquisite subtle fumes. Closing my eyes, I felt our bodies fusing into one and it was there that I found the comfort I’d longed for all my life. It wasn’t just happiness I had been missing, but also love.

As the evening came to an end the music ceased and he gave me an eloquent bow. I giggled lightly, my head spinning and my limbs tired.

“Are you ready for bed?” His eyes were thoughtful, yet strong.

I nodded as he led me to the stairs.

Entering my room, Edgar delicately helped untie my dress, giving me privacy as I fought it off. I hung it in my closet with heft; the weight of the fabric now taxing my arms. Feeling the cold breeze of the house, I quickly grabbed my nightgown from the pile of clothes on the floor and pulled it over my head as my teeth chattered.

When I emerged, Edgar was once again slouched in the chair by my bed. He had stacked the journals on the side table and pulled back the layers of velvet and down for me. Shaking, I ran to its welcoming warmth.

I crawled in and turned to look at him as he smiled. I flipped away to face the other direction as I thought about the day’s events and the many things I had come to understand about my past. I froze as I heard Edgar slowly stand from the chair, worried he would leave until I heard the distinct rustling of wool as he removed his coat. I carefully listened as he draped it over the chair and removed his shoes. Slowly, the comforter lifted and I felt him slide in. I shuffled over to give him space as his breathing settled behind me.

He brought his lips to my ear, gently grazing it as he kept his body at a safe distance, “I love you,” he whispered into my ear.

I inhaled one delicate breath, “I love you too.”  The words were thick on my tongue and my throat was choked with emotion.

He nestled his nose into my hair and my soul warmed to a smoldering burn. Though he wasn’t touching me, having him close was comforting and intimate. As I began to fall asleep, I thought about Scott and Sarah. Their love was so simple and easy, but at the same moment I thought about Edgar’s outlook on life. He resented normalcy and instead relished the simple elegance of challenge and the element of forbidden love. I knew that what we had, what we felt, was so much more than their love. It was enduring and intoxicating to know that one truly could not live without the other.

THE BEGINNING

In the morning I woke alone, the acute feeling of danger and fear close at mind. My head was clouded and my mouth felt numb. I sat up with sudden terror ripping through my heart as I looked around the room for Edgar, but the sheets where he had laid were already empty and cold.

Rushing from the bed, I grabbed my robe as I noticed Isabelle at the window, her feathers fluffed and her angry eyes darting across the field. My heart pounded in my chest as I turned and ran out the double doors, my feet sliding on the stairs as I flew down. As I landed on the foyer floor, I glanced out the front windows and halted as sudden terror seized me. Frozen by what I’d seen, I lifted my hand to my mouth, stifling a scream.

My eyes were fixed on the meadow where a single matte black raven was standing like a statue, the wind grabbing at its feathers but its body still as stone. There was a sudden movement in the front hall to my left and I jumped, my eyes darting toward the dark corner. My gaze met Edgar’s and my heart leapt in fear as they blazed a deep black. He walked toward me with a look I hadn’t seen since that first day, his jaw angrily fixed and his fists taut at his sides.

“Edgar, what is it?” My body was shaking with anxiety.

His face was solemn, “It’s another spy. Matthew knows you’re back, he must, I’ve never seen more than one a year.”

My breathing was fast, “But how? How does he know we’re here?”

Edgar arrived close at my side, but still distanced in his vulnerable state, his face cold and unchanged, “He can feel us.” He exhaled as a low growl escaped his throat, “I feared this Elle, but there was no way to know until now.” His voice sounded distant and sharp. “His senses are far stronger than I’d expected and I can feel him now too, he’s gaining strength.”

I breathed through my nose, finding it was hot and humid as it landed across my lips.

“It’s only a matter of time,” dread winced in his hissing voice.

I slowly stepped toward him, looking at him with apprehension as I approached. He outstretched his arms and I took it as an invitation, running into his grasp and closing my hands hard against his chest. When I opened my eyes, my mind was struck with horror as I watched three more ravens land in the field, their black wings fanning the snow in waves of misty crystal plumes.

Edgar firmly grasped my arm and dragged me through the hall and into the sitting room. My arm ached where he grabbed me, but I didn’t dare object. “Sit here,” he hissed and I noticed his eyes were still perilously black, “Don’t look out the window Elle, and plug your ears.” His face was homicidal. “I’m sorry about this,” he added in an attempt to revive some sort of human compassion before storming around the corner.

I pulled my knees to my chest as I heard the front door slam. There was a low rumbling as I heard Edgar change into a raven, and for a moment, there was a silence as my breath dragged in my throat and echoed in my head. Like a sudden crash of thunder, there was a shrill screaming of birds and I plugged my ears, terrified by what I knew was happening.

My body shook against the leather of the chair, sweat now beading on my forehead and my mind beginning to feel faint. Chills racked my bones as I imagined my face turning a stark white. This was all my fault, why had I been so dumb, why had I thought that giving him my soul would make this stop? My head ripped open in pain, aching more than it ever had. The voices in my mind were screaming and I found no way to render it relief as they flooded through the rooms of my mind. My voice elevated to a shrill pitch as I sat huddled in the chair, unable to breathe.

As my voice ceased, so did the world around me, like putting a lid on a boiling pot. All I could hear was my muffled breathing and I listened as a door slammed somewhere in the distance. A heavy exhale escaped my trembling lips as I chanted over and over in my head that Edgar was ok.

I heard his heavy footsteps as he rounded the corner into the room where I lifted my head to look at him, noticing the bloodied sweat glistening on his forehead. I quickly struggled to discern if the spatters were his blood or the ravens. Then, as my eyes scanned his body, I noticed the deep scratches gouged into his neck. The fresh wounds oozed thick red blood into his shirt, leaving stains of deep crimson that contrasted with his pearly skin. I struggled to stand as I ran toward him with fogged desperation. I was horrified when he held up one bloodied hand, halting me in my path. My gaze fell to the lifeless lumps hanging from his other hand as blood dripped on the black granite, glimmering under the candlelight like an ebony pool.

“Don’t get their blood on you,” his voice growled, “It will make it easier for them to find you, for him to find you.” His face was cold and hard and his eyes were like vials of black ink.

Terrified, I stepped back as I saw his face suddenly change.

“I think I managed to kill them all, but I can’t be certain, they could be hiding,” his eyes were beginning to calm, “but it’s only a matter of time, we need to be careful.”

I followed him as he walked to the fire that was blazing in the kitchen, sadistic fascination and shock still shaking my bones. He threw the four dead bodies into the hearth without a glimmer of remorse and the flames exploded into a deep purple. I watched as their feathers curled and melted and the smell of rotting wood and curdled milk seeped into the room.

Washing his hands in the sink, I watched them tremble as he reached for a towel. He struggled to wet it as he cleaned his face and neck of blood. He turned off the water and leaned against the sink, water dripping from his open lips. After a moment, he walked toward me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, placing his chin on my head.

I began to sob. “Edgar,” I struggled to form words through the well of tears, “I don’t want this to happen, it’s my fault, I’m so sorry.”

His rough hands pulled me away from him where he looked me in the eyes, his fury burning deep into my core, “Estella, this is not your fault, don’t think that.” His brows were pushed together and deep creases cut into his smooth skin, “Don’t start blaming yourself, you’ve had enough sorrow.”

I gave him an unsatisfied glare, “And so have you, and it’s all because of me!”

He grabbed my face, his hands like steel against by cheek bones. “Stop that,” he snapped and I shook with despair, seeing the fine line on which I was dancing.

He pulled me into him and I leaned against his stone chest, wiping the tears from my cheeks. This was my fault and I refused to be told otherwise. I should have never come here; I should have killed myself as I’d thought to do a thousand times. He had learned to live without me, and now, I was bringing trouble back to him, dragging him into my sadness in my selfish desire to feel something.

I pushed him away, curling my forehead in denial and finding myself unable to look him in the eyes. I glanced back at the flames where only bones now sat atop the fire, the grotesque reality of it making me feel ill. Irrationality swept over me and I turned with a sudden need to get away, taking off toward my room.

“Elle!” Edgar yelled behind me, his voice frantic and scared as though he knew the thoughts that swam in my mind.

As I reached the stairs, the tears had already dried as my soul turned dark and cold, the need to punish myself somehow healing the guilt. I felt my chest in sorrow, grasping it hard and allowing the pain to seep into me. I ran into my room and slammed the doors behind me in a thunderous rage, my chest heaving hard.

I wanted to scream and yell. I wanted nothing more than to rip my body limb from limb. Why had this happened? I never should have come here, I should have let my life take its course, let myself suffer for how much pain I had caused and all the trouble I had brought upon this world, and these lives I’ve lived. I walked to the shelf containing my journals and grabbed the back of the bookcase as I threw it to the ground in my violent wrath. The pages slid across the wood boards and sprawled open like lifeless souls.

My breathing slowed as a sense of calm came over me. All this life, all something I couldn’t remember. It was such a waste. I fell to my knees where the pain was sharp as I hit the floor. The desire to punish myself was now greater than my desire to live but all thought seemed to cease as my body took over, protecting itself from my mind. I knew what I had to do but I still didn’t see how. I was not going to allow us to live in fear. This time, I was going to fight.

There was a knock at the door and I craned my head in shame. I said nothing in reply, my heart torn and my black soul charred too deeply. Edgar knocked again but still I said nothing, just stared at the floor in a complete loss. There was no third knock as Edgar opened the door despite my refusal to allow him entrance. His eyes were looked miserable and his body language was heartbreaking.

He walked up to me like a soundless cloud, kneeling to the floor and wrapping his arms around me as he lifted me into his lap. His hand grazed across my cheek as he pushed my face toward his. His eyes scanned mine with calm before he kissed me, his grip like steel and I couldn’t help but feel calm and safe. He lifted me off the floor and set me in the chair where he knelt before me until his eyes met mine.

“Elle,” his voice sounded shaky, yet calm. “Please, don’t do this.”

I felt the anger in my heart reignite with a sudden crack, I didn’t need his rationalizations and the feeling welled in my throat, “Why? You would have been fine without me. You would have learned to live on.”

I watched him as my spiteful words stung his heart and he bowed his head into my lap. His face was still stained with faint spots of blood and his hair was messed. I felt no remorse for my words, it was all true, and our fate was already sealed.

“Elle, you don’t understand how dark it is, without you I was hopeless and lost.” He lifted his eyes to look at me and I was shocked to see they looked empty and cold. “You are so important to me, so important to everything, you still don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand.” I breathed hard as my arms went limp at my sides.

He tried to comfort me further but I shied away. Irritated, Edgar grabbed me against my will and held me hard in his stern grasp in an attempt to make his point sink in. I struggled to wriggle away as I felt emotion lace through my head and my fury slowly changed to sadness and a broken heart. He clenched his jaw hard as it moved like stone against my cheek, his strong arms unwilling to let me go.

“Just calm down,” he breathed into my ear, his eloquent voice lulling me into tranquility. “We can beat this, we will.”

I was heaving heavily through my nostrils like a cornered animal.

“Estella,” his voice was firm, “We’re going to be ok, just be calm. We have time until he gains enough strength, until he formulates a plan. Be strong for me, this is only the beginning.”

I looked up at him as he held me, my limbs overwhelmed with emotion as I wrapped my arms around him, grasping him as though he were my life. It was then that I remembered that he was my life, and it was all worth living if living was what I was here to do. I could not waste what little time I had left.

WAITING

For the next few weeks, Edgar held my hand with relentless resolve as my head remained wary, treating every slight movement like a threat. I winced as he adjusted the coals in the fire and I thought of the four lives he’d taken and the four carcasses that now were long gone.

“I’m going to have to forbid you to leave the house,” he finally spoke one afternoon. It was already clear that I wasn’t leaving, but hearing him say it made it seem like a jail. He was becoming impatient with the dismal silent treatment I’d subjected him to but what more did I really have to say? In my anger and hatred for myself I had receded into silence. We sat quietly on the stools in the kitchen as the winter light streamed through the window and onto his face with ominous sadness.

I sighed, the notion of death rising inside my soul, preparing it for the end, “This is how it all happened last time isn’t it?” My voice was cracking.

He squeezed my hand hard, his eyes meeting mine and blazing a deep sapphire blue that glowed brighter than they ever had. I knew there were likely two reasons he was refusing to let go of me, one was in hopes of making me remember my past, and the other was so that he could gain strength, as though planning for a coming battle.

My hair had also taken on a new sheen. His constant grasp was mystifying and it had begun to change me back into my former angelic self. In his attempts, I was also ceasing to age, my skin becoming a radiant pale pearl and my eyes beginning to reflect the light like a creature of the night.

He touched my face, brushing his warm fingers across my chin. “Yes, this is how it happened last time,” he exhaled, “But he was more powerful and more dangerous then.”

I nodded, “But now he’s hungrier, and you can’t underestimate that.”

A sudden frustration flooded his face and I could tell that these were all grim facts he already knew were true, but also infuriating. Since the morning the spies came, Edgar had seemed drawn and distracted. His mind was now crowded with thought and his blue eyes were storming almost non-stop. His cold demeanor frightened me, making me wary of the world around us as though it was all out to get me. Despite his motives, the constant touch was nice and I felt complete for long periods of time. I was afraid to tell him that it wasn’t helping, at least not like he wanted. There were no new memories coming back to me, still just the few faces flashing across my mind.

I sighed as I dropped his hand. He gave me a look of surprise and I just shrugged, “Sorry Edgar, I just need a break for a second. It’s all very hard to handle, I’m sure it is for you too.”

His face was gloomy. “Yeah,” he tilted his head down, leaning against the copper counter in the kitchen, “I’m exhausted.”

“I’ll be fine,” I reassured him, “I’ll keep working on it. I just need some space.” My eyes were locked on his, begging for him to understand.

My familiar gloominess slowly seeped over me and the house seemed to grow even colder. I walked away from him down the hall. I missed Scott. There was something about the simplicity of his life, even Sarah’s. I missed their childish smiles and playful cheery lives, so naïve. I envied the fact that all they had to fear was life, sweet and short.

Though I had been prepared to dig deep and find my life, I had at least figured it would be somewhat traditional, a mother, a father, maybe even some brothers and sisters. I was hoping that in finding that, I would also find what my soul had been missing. I never expected I was actually missing my soul, and my other half. It pained me to think I’d never have a mother, never have siblings, and also friends. Scott and Sarah would eventually age, and in time, die. I would be forced to leave their companionship behind out of fear they would discover my true self.

When I thought about Edgar’s life, I knew that he was frustrated also. All the friends he had ever made, Mr. Benz, Edgar Allan, and numerous others were all lost in history now, never to return to their former selves. There had surely been a time in Edgar’s life where he thought this would be easier. There was probably a day, after my death, that had felt like he could heal and move on like humans often could.

I saw how inwardly upset he was when he found I remembered nothing about my former life. His eyes fade when he thinks of it, and to him, it’s probably like holding onto a dying flame. I used to be something amazing, but now I just pale in comparison. He hides it though, out of his love for me, and when you share a soul that’s certainly something you can feel, each others deepest pains.

I can see how I’ve improved him though, and I can see my purpose in his life. His energy was so low before I came, but even since I’ve been here, I’ve noticed a change in him, and a strength returning. At night, he still lays away from me, safely distanced in his undying fear of killing me by taking his anger too far. I often stay awake for hours, just listening to him as he murmurs in his sleep. Sometimes he says my name, other times he speaks in Italian or French and I can’t understand.

It’s strange to imagine that all of the anger in our soul resides in him. I often wonder what he acts like when he’s not around me, and I wonder if he’s any different. It is clear that of the coupling, I was the most important, but alone I would be weak and vulnerable, unable to accept dangers in a way that could be fought. In this I felt scared.

I traced my hands against the velvet stamped wallpaper in the hall as I walked its length. I stopped at the library where I rested my hand on the doorframe, digging my nails into the wood with boredom. The lofted room was intimidating and filled with shelf upon shelf of books that spiraled up to the second level and the vaulted gold leaf ceiling. One wall gave way to large arched windows that reached two stories, pouring an ominous light onto the already faded books. Straight ahead, there was a ladder that took you to the separate upper level, and my treacherous heart was now desperate to climb it.

I shuffled in and put my cold pale hands on the mahogany wood of the treads. Hoisting myself up, I placed my feet on each ancient rung, careful not to get Edgar’s attention from the other room. The previous time I had tried to climb up here, he had warned me that the ladder was old and somewhat unstable, and he ultimately forbade me from climbing it. I remember thinking that maybe under his weight it was, but I was so light, I knew it was fine. Rung by rung, I silently ascended into the overhead space, my rebellion pulsing hot blood through my veins.

Once on the second level, I placed my hands on the iron railing and looked down on the warn leather couch and Thomas Edison lamp Edgar had received in 1879. It was the only light bulb in the entire house and with just cause. Edgar had explained his reasons for resulting to candle light beyond its simple beauty. He had argued that if all light bulbs were made like the original, then he would use them, because like Edison and Humphrey Davy, theirs would never burn out.

The second level platform was narrow and angled at a ninety degree angle from where I stood toward the right around the square room. I touched my fingers to the dusty volumes on my left, there were old dictionaries and encyclopedias, surely all much too outdated with today’s technology. I tentatively tiptoed as I rounded the corner and I noticed something I’d never seen before, perhaps because of its obscure angle to the room below.

There was a small archway tucked back in the corner, about the size of a regular doorway but with no door. I balanced myself against the wall, peering around the corner with a rueful eye. I twisted my head where I looked to the ground floor, making sure no one was there. I blinked as I turned back and walked toward the archway without hesitation. The residual reflection of my eyes was able to adjust to the darkness as I took in its depths. My breathing was shallow as I slid into the small nook unnoticed and the sound of my breath quietly echoed off the cold stucco walls.

As my feet crossed the threshold, candlelight fell upon the space, shining on a chair that was pushed into the back corner and reflecting off a large gold frame on the wall. The room was no bigger than a pantry and I found myself mildly disappointed, a part of me had been hoping to find more than just a small sitting room. I threw myself down into the leather armchair and closed my eyes in defeat as dust flew up around me.

Despite the disappointing discovery, I felt I’d found a place to hide, a place Edgar wouldn’t think to look. There was one lit candle and it flickered against the walls, making me feel like I was in a cave. I slouched down and put my hands across my chest as I looked at the very large painting that stretched from knee to ceiling, clearly not designed to fit the space. The subtle layers of paint beneath the thick dust tickled at my memories, catching my attention as I stood, brushing some cobwebs from the surface as I recognized the signature, Vermeer 1667. As I slowly uncovered the layers of age, the scene began to fall together like a puzzle. The overall theme was of everyday life, a group of people gathered in a sitting room for a party.

I brushed more of the deep dust away and looked closely at each face. My eyes scanned with delight until I was shocked to recognize the familiar features of Edgar, staring out from the scene with blank eyes of boredom. His jaw was poignantly clenched and his hair was tousled. I noticed that his eyes were a deep blue, like they were now, like the deepest ocean. I tried to smile slightly but found my efforts muddled by my cold dark soul.

I followed his arm with my hand where I saw it was placed on the shoulder of a beautiful blonde in a familiar sapphire blue gown. My eloquent and balanced features gazed out at me with a knowing stare as though telling my current self a secret that only I would understand. My skin was young and smooth, just as it was now, and my eyes were a light and striking crystal blue as they beamed from the canvas with life and happiness. My lips were rosy red, glimmering in the filtering light from Vermeer’s attic window. The artist’s ability to create the opulence of fabric and the life of skin was breathtaking against the expensive choice of colors that were richly rewarding.

My focus fell to the other attendants of the party, each face flashing through my murky memory, each someone that I had been trying to recognize for weeks. I squinted as I brushed at the canvas with a brisker hand, now intrigued. The pearly skin and finery of each couple was eerily familiar and I deduced that they had also been like us, eternally locked in longing and alive for what they’d hope would be eternity.

All the men were dressed in black, their coats and vests dark as night with matching black silk ties. Their white shirts were the only difference, but the monochromatic ensemble accentuated the pearly reflection of their eyes, allowing the colors to show with greater brilliance.

One couple was adorned in velvety green, the gentleman’s eyes glowing like a forest of evergreens, deep emerald and heavily faceted. The lady’s hair was a deep radiant burgundy, the color complimenting the luminous greens of her dress and eyes, making her pale skin and blushing cheeks blaze like the sun. She had a small black cat perched on her lap and her delicate hand was placed on its head as its eyes also seared a shocking green.

Another lady wore a brilliant bronze, and as such, her partner’s eyes flashed like gold coins. Her hair cascaded in curling gold strands down her back and her cheeks also appeared to be lightly flushed. They both stood, the gentleman shadowing her to her left with two large English greyhounds at their sides, the dogs hair wiry and rough.

The last couple leaned casually against the wall, the lady draped against the lapel of her partner’s coat and her hand resting on his chest where I noticed her fingers were crowded with diamonds. There were strands of pearls dangling from her neck and she was the only one smiling other than me, the only other attendant enjoying the afternoon.

Her white gown was radiant, gleaming like a perfect silver pearl in the sunlight and her hair was a billowy platinum blonde, as though she were my perfect twin. My attention flashed to her partner’s face, deeply hallowed and disturbed and his jaw clenched as his silvery white eyes stood out like diamonds against his pitch-black hair. There was a white owl perched on the lady’s shoulder, much like the owl Edgar had in his office, and for a moment, I wondered if that was exactly what it was.

In sudden revelation, my jaw fell open as I remembered the face of the man with the silvery stare. As I squinted into his eyes, however, the face in the painting was much more youthful and alive but the blistering eyes were unchanged, and just as lethal.

“Matthew,” I whispered, my heart beginning to pound in my chest. I struggled to make sense of it all. According to this painting, he had been an acquaintance, our friend. My eyes darted again to his beautiful partner, angelic in her love toward him. I felt sorrow tug at my heart as my mind willed me to remember her. A warm sensation bristled against my bones and in that subtle response, I knew I had adored her like a sister.

I felt my heart shatter into a million shards of sharp glass as I fell back into the chair. Putting my head in my hands, I tried to calm my breathing, tried to forget the horrible fact I had just realized. In a flood of anxiety, I dashed from the tiny room as the candle flickered out behind me with a tiny gust of wind. I carefully bustled down the ladder and ran into the hall, skidding on the floor as my thick wool socks struggled to find traction.

I heard Edgar’s voice somewhere in the distance as I heaved my body up the stairs, “Elle? Are you all right?” he yelled.

I froze, calming myself midway up the steps. “Yeah, I’m fine!” I yelled back as I stood there for a moment, but he didn’t reply. In a few swift movements, I threw myself the rest up the way up the set of steps and through the colossal doors and into my room. As fast and quiet as I could, I lightly tiptoed to my shelf of journals that Edgar had helped me categorize after my explosion a few weeks back. I struggled to keep the floorboards from squeaking, figuring Edgar was the equivalent of directly below. I laced my finger into the thick spine of the journal marked 1667; gingerly squeezing it out from between ’68 and ’66.

Exhaling with deep concentration, I flipped through each entry as my breath rose hot and quick in my chest and my heart drummed against my ribs. At last, I caught a glimpse of my flagrant handwritten “V” on a page about halfway in. With haste, I held it open and whispered the words under my breath.

September 1667,

The lot of us gathered today for a portrait. I had convinced them of Johannes Vermeer’s talents for texture and they agreed it was a lovely idea. Hazel was more than excited. She even bought a beautiful new silk dress in a magnificent bronze…

I paused, noting the name of the lady with the gold hair, Hazel. It rang a strange bell inside my soul and I felt a fleeting sense of achievement. My eyes quickly darting back to the page,

… Gloria was snottier about the whole thing. She wanted to look the best so she had a professional apply powder and blush to her face, making her burgundy hair stand out, and her skin more radiant then it already was. I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious near her, despite my naturally glowing features…

There was another familiar click inside me, Gloria. I said her name over and over, locking it in my mind and my heart fluttered,

… Only Margriete was truly poignant about herself. She and I spent the afternoon snickering in the corner at the other’s vanity. I should hope if I had a sister she could be it. We are eternally joined at the hip and I shall miss her greatly when they go away to London for the summer, but come spring, we will be right again in Rome…

My heart stopped with a sudden thud and I put my hand to my chest, feeling the pain surging through my throat and stealing the breath from my lungs. A sudden illness overtook me and my mind began to fog as a memory flashed before my eyes, that of her laughing face that day. Though my soul could not feel the severed friendship, my body trembled from the loss, and the sorrow.

He had killed her, killed us. The way his face curled in the painting looked so evil, so angry. How had we not noticed his deep secret, his internal burning desire? I remembered the way my face had glared out of the canvas, the glimmer of knowing a secret my past-self somehow knew. I gasped for air as I struggled to stay conscious, struggled to hold on to the feelings that now felt so real.

We were all so innocent and careless, so flagrantly in love with ourselves and our world; but the promise of endless life and the power we held over everyone was too intoxicating to see the evil among us. We had ignored every sign, ignored the possibilities of treachery and greed that went beyond our own vanity.

“Hazel,” I whispered lightly. My chest aching as her glorious face flashed across my mind, her soft laughter lingering in the echoes of my empty soul. “Gloria,” I whispered again as her tartness stung my mind and her vain existence tickled my nose with envy.

There was an abrupt knock at my door and I looked up from where I knelt on the ground, the journal clutched in my angry hand. My arms were trembling as Edgar entered, his eyes falling on mine where they turned a solemn grey that was heavy with concern.

“Elle, are you ok?” he rushed toward me and put his warm hand on my back as I breathed hard, trying to catch my breath.

Tears poured from my eyes like a sudden wave and my body began shuddering in a way I could not control. My eyes clenched hard as tears stained the pages of my journal, drawing ink down the thick parchment.

Edgar grasped the book from my hand, prying it from my desperate grasp as he attempted to understand. His eyes glided across the page with rapid recollection, his breathing fast and heavy. He sighed, “You found it, didn’t you?”

My throat was swollen with sadness and a familiar dread overtook me as the world went dark and I fell to the floor.

* * *

As I came to, I felt Edgar lacing his hands under my trembling body and hoisting me into his cradling arms where he carried me to my bed. He laid me down on the soft sheets as he brushed the hair from my face, the strands matted against my cheeks with thick tears. He was gently humming, trying to calm my hysterical state.

“Shhh, Elle,” he cooed, his voice silvery and soft. “I’m so sorry, so sorry you had to feel this again.” He gently rubbed my back as I faced the window, snow falling from the sky in thick flakes. “I never meant for you to see that.”

My eyes began to dry as I felt my body give out, the fear numbing my muscles. The same despair and guilt rushed over me and I began blaming myself, it seemed like the only logical notion. I had known what was happening back then, sensed the end nearing, but did nothing to stop it. Why? It was then I realized why I had the painting commissioned. Just as I had recorded our history in journals, I had also desired to record all of ours, to record that day so that I could look back, and recognize my own solemn stare.

Edgar sighed, his hand tracing mine, “After that picture was painted, they began dying, soon after,” his voice cracked and he paused for a moment. “You ordered me to immediately burn the painting, but I couldn’t, you loved Vermeer, you loved them. I see now that it was a mistake to keep it.”

A fresh tear formed in my eye and my notions were suddenly affirmed. There was a reason to my need for that day in the painting, that record of life. I was glad he hadn’t burned it. I needed to see that moment, I needed to remember it.

“Margriete was like family too us, same with Matthew.” There was a sudden resentment and a cold twinge to his voice, “But he used us Elle, to lure them all in. I assure you I never knew and neither did Margriete. She had no idea of the fate that was waiting for her.” He touched my ear with the tips of his fingers.

He rustled the covers over me and I felt him tuck the blankets under my sides before sliding next to me and placing his arms around my waist. He was distancing his touch, allowing my emotion to cool.

I struggled to speak, “Why…” but the words came out in a choked muffle and I cleared my throat and tried again. “Why do I remember these painful things, why nothing wonderful or happy? How did I not do something to stop this?”

A light laugh filled the room and his breath fell across my ear, “But that was a wonderful day, that day was one of your happiest. The way you smiled, the way you looked,” he stopped, his warmth relaxing me.

I thought hard to remember it, he was right. It wasn’t the day that had been horrid. It was the days that followed, the darkness that would soon descend upon us in a shroud of death. The gods were sadistic and cruel to do this. All we wanted was to be together, to live in love forever.

“I don’t want you to think I’m protecting you from your past, I couldn’t keep that from you. Your life is your own. It just pains me to see you this way, but perhaps if I told you some things, now while you’re already upset, would that help?”

I felt him run his hand down the length of my arm, my body still shaking but I needed to know, I wanted to know. Nodding my head, I let it softly rest on the pillow, my hair tangling around my face.

He sighed and I could sense he was going to hate this moment as much as me. “Margriete, Gloria, and Hazel were your best friends, your sisters. You were each as different as the next, each unique and beautiful. When you were together, you seemed to make up every kind of personality, the perfect friendships.” He exhaled, “Gloria was obviously very vain, and conceited. Do you remember the story I told you about the first couple to succeed, to live after meeting for the first time?”

I nodded, now putting the pieces of my past back together.

“Gloria and Alek became our friends and her vanity came with a certain understanding. In her mind she was royalty and could not stand anyone being better than her. But to you, she was your…” he paused to think of the right term, “your Barbie doll of sorts.”

A soft laugh escaped through my tear stained mouth and something inside me believed him, something knew how furious she was for not receiving the praise she’d believed she rightfully deserved.

Edgar leaned in close to my ear, brushing his lips against my cheek as they curled into a grin. “And Hazel was envious, always jealous of everyone. She always thought her bronze hair and eyes were bland and boring. No matter how hard she tried, she could never fly like the rest of you. She had a short attention span and as a result she was clumsy and ignorant.” He laughed in my ear, “You treated her like your little sister and you were always protecting her, watching out for her when she wouldn’t, or couldn’t.”

My heart was bursting with warmth, but also frustration. I could feel that her death had been the hardest on me and my body shuddered in pain.

“And then of course there was Margriete,” I could hear the deepening despair in his voice, “She was your best friend and the only one that was just like you. She was carefree and never worried about her beauty or her belongings, and because of that, you were both far more beautiful than the rest.”

My body went cold as chills pulsed through my veins.

Edgar squeezed me tighter, “She was the last to disappear. You instantly suspected Matthew but I didn’t believe you, I realize my fault in that.” He paused, his voice breaking, “You were the first to notice when Gloria and Hazel were killed that their partners were also brutally murdered alongside them. But Matthew hadn’t died with Margriete, and you didn’t believe his stories, his lies about how she’d run away in fear. Your eyes were far sharper than mine. I was furious with you, horrified that you could blame someone that was like a brother to me.”

My eyebrows furled as the anxiety of that fact made my body feel rigid and angry toward Edgar. How could he manage to make friends with someone that held that sort of fury, but then again, perhaps they all had, and the notion of murder was just over the threshold in which they stood.

“You knew he had taken her and was just hiding the evidence of her body. I should have seen it in his eyes but the deep silver was hiding it all.” He brushed his nose across my face, “It’s my fault Elle, you see. Not yours.”

A wave of guilt washed over me, and I took a deep breath as I closed my eyes and allowed it to clear my head. “No,” my voice was surprisingly stubborn, “It was Matthew’s fault, his alone.” I wiggled out of Edgar’s iron grasp, “I understand now, it wasn’t me that caused all the pain and the suffering, not even us. It was you and I that saved our species and we still can.” I rolled over to face him, his eyes stormy, “Edgar, this time when he comes, I will have the guts and fury to help kill him. I can’t run anymore, and I don’t want this to happen again.”

He traced his finger across my furled brow and I could see my flashing eyes reflected in his. A smirk crossed his face, “There’s the fire I knew you had.” His breath fell across my lips and I found it warm and intoxicating.

I smiled back as I wiped the last tear from my face. I was done being afraid, done running away from life as it tried to knock down the door on me. Edgar stared deep into my soul as he bent forward and pressed his lips against mine, sliding his hand alongside my back with a controlled but firm grasp. I gave in, realizing that I was being reckless but as I pressed closer, his lips curled into mine and his teeth gently grazed my lip. The kiss felt desperate, as though our lives were suddenly fleeting. I thought about the day I had died, wondering if we’d even had the chance to say goodbye. The memory was still too painful for Edgar to explain.

We molded together for a brief moment before he pulled away and untangled himself from my grasp, his eyes black, and his breathing hurried. The thoughts in his mind had vindictively turned over, his jackals baring their evil teeth.

“I really think you ought to reconsider your motives,” he joked, a sly grin leering across his beautiful face, the thunderclouds breaking with hunger across his eyes.

I understood the place he was in and I giggled, enjoying the fine line I was toying with and the rush of adrenaline it pumped through my heart.

He stood, grabbing my hand and pulling me from under the covers in one gruff move. I squealed with laughter as he twirled me out into the room, curling me back into a low bow, his strong arms cradling me with little effort.

He sunk his head against my chest, his lips a breaths width away from my skin. “But, I do love your sense of adventure,” he whispered, his scent swirling around me. His touch was delicate as he pulled me into his arms and looked at me with multifaceted adoration and a deep everlasting love.

As he set me down, I gave him a smart smirk. The fear that had crippled me all week was gone and I realized that I was safer than before, we had the advantage. Besides, I was a delectable piece of bait, soullessly deceiving to my predator. A plan began to form in my head, a plan I could never tell Edgar, there was no way he would allow for it. He was too protective over me and too cautious to ever allow me the chance to get that close to Matthew, to touch his skin. A sudden power endowed me and it was there that I vowed to avenge my friends, my family.

FREEDOM

It had been over a month now since the Ravens had appeared and Christmas was only a week away. I sat looking out the tall arched windows of the library as Edgar held my hand, flipping through a large book about Alaska that sat balanced on his lap. His CD player blared opera throughout the house and the clocks on the wall ticked with annoyance in time with the singing as I stared at the snow-covered field, thick flakes falling on the already saturated ground. I rested my head on the back of the sofa with my legs curled under me, biting the nails on my free hand with anxiety.

I had spent endless hours thinking about my plan to kill Matthew, ever since I found the painting, the idea formulating in my mind. I had ceased trying to figure out how to get my soul back, it was in Edgar for a reason, to keep it safe. I had already figured, three hundred years ago, that I had meant it to be that way. Our soul was where it was in order to make me free, to give me the ability to take the risks that are needed to end this once and for all.

The meadow was empty and cold and the wind whipped the snow in wavy drifts, gathering it into invisible dunes around the eaves of the house. Things were beginning to feel ominous as we waited. It was just a matter of time before things would come to a head and as we sat there helpless, the stillness pulled heavy on my mind.

I was growing increasingly anxious, like an injured duck swimming in a spiral of bloodthirsty sharks. Would Matthew come here? Or was it better to hunt him down first. If I made myself the bait, I would have to be prepared for the outcome, and whatever pain may come with it.

A heavy sigh released from my lungs but Edgar didn’t seem to notice, or rather, wasn’t up for listening to my constant droves of overreaction. As I glanced back outside, my eyes caught the glimpse of something moving in the snow. I sat up straight as an arrow as I squinted and glared through the misty window, my lips parting and my breath becoming heavy like a hunting dog.

My first thought, as I darted my eyes across the field through the panes, was that it was only the swirling snow playing tricks on my mind. I caught the sharp flash of my eyes reflecting in the glass, the crystal blue piercing back at me like the sun. I shook my head in annoyance, figuring it was just the glare of the light off the snow and I relaxed my chin back down on the sofa.

Edgar hadn’t moved, still locked in his stony silence toward me. My wary eyes scanned the treetops and again something flashed across my blind spot. I furled my brow as I tried to recognize what I’d seen. My heart rate quickened, pulsing into my hand as Edgar grasped it. I sat up again, this time eagerly watching, my mind refusing to look away. I thought about that day in the woods, when something had followed me to the waterfall, but whatever this was, was too small.

Another minute passed and I felt Edgar watching from the corner of his eye, his body beginning to sense my unease. He tightened the grip on my hand, my palms beginning to sweat. Concentrating my gaze back on the field, something again moved and that’s when I finally saw it. A white cat darted across the meadow between two drifts of light snow. I jumped and Edgar looked at me in annoyance.

“Estella, what is your problem?” he boomed.

I looked at him wide eyed. “Did you see that?” I gasped.

He turned and looked out the window behind him, “See what Elle? I don’t have eyes in the back of my head you know.” He gave me a sly smile.

I snorted, “I’m not joking Edgar, there was something out there.”

He squinted through the bright glare on the glass, “I don’t see anything Elle. Was it black?”

I looked at him with aggravation in my eyes. “No,” I said tartly.

He touched a finger to my nose and I swatted it away, “Seriously, it was a white cat or something.”

A mocking laugh grumbled in his throat, “You really think a cat could live up here in the frigid wilderness?”

I didn’t like his condescending tone of voice and my eyes blazed at him.

He lifted his eyebrows as he leaned back in surprise. “Wow, ok then,” he breathed. “I guess if I were to tell you, you were probably seeing things, you’d rip my head off, right?”

I glowered at him. “You’re such a bully,” I hissed.

Looking back outside I saw the distinct pop of a tail as the cat jumped through the trees and into the woods. My jaw fell open in disbelief. I wasn’t crazy, this I knew for sure. What I saw was really there, but as Edgar said, that was absurd. I stood and tried to peer further into the woods, standing on my toes and leaning against the couch for support.

“Elle really, please sit down.” He was treating me like a child and I strongly disliked it, “We are in the woods you know, there are wild animals.”

I snorted. “I didn’t realize cats were wild,” I said under my breath. Edgar looked at me with one eyebrow raised, his face threatening but his eyes a soft blue grey.

Plopping down on the couch, I crossed my arms across my chest in annoyance. I glanced up toward where the small arched room was, a sudden eagerness filling my soul with the desire to view the painting again, to see my friends and stare deep into the eyes of my enemy.

I shot out of the chair in one fluid movement, dropping Edgar’s hand with a forceful thump and darting to the ladder.

“Elle, I’ve told you that’s not safe, I wasn’t just saying that so you wouldn’t go up there.” His voice was nagging and it only fueled me more.

With a ginger hand, I navigated my way up the creaky ladder, “Then maybe you should get me a new one,” I shot toward him in a bratty tone.

He snorted as his face curled into another seductive grin and he dropped his gaze back to the book.

I popped up to the top rim, my soul fading as the playfulness began to leave me. I eyed the field again, now getting a better view, but to my dismay nothing was there. Each time I touched Edgar, the feeling of happiness seemed to linger longer than before. I was like a rechargeable battery of sorts, only, you wouldn’t want to leave me unplugged for too long because then I just became self-destructive and bratty.

I curled my fingers around the rail, walking like a toy soldier in a bored attempt to make Edgar laugh. I rolled my eyes as I finally gave up, feeling the depression begin to grip my chest. Rounding the corner of the narrow walkway, I delved into the small sitting area and plopped down in the chair, now drained and tired.

Isabelle flew up to the top railing where she tilted her head and looked at me with bored curiosity from outside the space. I patted my thigh and she floated down onto the chair, nesting herself in my lap with delight. I scratched her head and she furled her feathers, her eyes slowly closing in bliss.

“You saw the cat, right?” I scratched her in vigorous strokes as she kept her eyes shut, uninterested in my trivial question.

The candle streamed a gentle light on the photo and I looked at Margriete, her hand eternally resting on the chest of her two-faced partner, her murderer. The tiny white owl that rested on her far shoulder still perplexed me, its sharp yellow eyes gazing out from the canvas like a statue.

In the painting, I recognized Isabelle perched at my feet as I sat in the blue silk chair from my bedroom. I glared with anger at my face in the painting, still spiteful and annoyed with myself for being so vague. Edgar’s arm on my shoulder looked proud, his love for me stronger than his thirst for our soul.

I took a deep breath and exhaled with dark rage. I missed having friends, even if I couldn’t remember them. I thought about how easily Scott and I seemed to get along and my heart tugged as I began to feel sad about leaving him and Sarah behind. But come spring, they would be back, and hopefully so would I. Despite my initial social clumsiness, I had fallen into their friendships with comfort and intrigue.

I sat up then, Isabelle looking at me with annoyance as I gently pushed her off my lap and into the chair. I shuffled to the railing just outside the archway where I looked down on Edgar.

“Do we have a phone?” I said bluntly, remembering that Scott and Sarah had given me their cell phone numbers, not that they worked out here, but it was worth a try, just to check in.

He dropped the book in his hand and looked at me with parted lips, “Uh…” he was struggling which meant one thing, we did have a phone. “No?” His voice cracked.

“You are such a bad liar,” I narrowed my eyes at him.

He pretended to be hurt but I wasn’t so naïve.

“Oh. come on please? I miss my friends, I won’t tell them where I’m at, I promise.” I stuck my bottom lip out in a pout.

He laughed, shaking his head at me, “Well you’re supposed to be back in Seattle.”

I looked at him curiously, “What?”

He tilted his head back and his eyes looked sheepishly grey, “Since I forbid you to leave the house, I just told everyone you refused to take my nasty personality and you left the college forever, that’s why I had to take in your colorful car.”

My jaw fell open, “You had no right!” I squeaked, “You can’t just bottle me up and wait. I didn’t even say goodbye!”

A laugh got choked in his throat, “Well what should I have said? I kidnapped you? I had to make them believe that you hated them so much that you would never contact them again.”

I was glowering at him, his attitude still all fun and games. “How do you do that anyways? Make a hallucination or holograph…” I struggled to find the right word, “Or whatever you call it.”

I walked around the second level toward the ladder. Edgar stood from the couch with a lazy yawn and walked toward me as I began to descend. His large hands grabbed my waist and lifted me down before I even got half way.

“And how come you get to be so strong,” I spat, my ego now damaged. He rolled me around in his arms where he cradled me in such a way that I couldn’t fight back.

His grin was so big it made his eyes slant and his youthful skin wrinkle around his nose, “Because Elle, we’re opposites, where I am strong, you are sharp.”

“Yeah well, where I am smart you are boring,” I spat, giving him a playful glare.

He tilted his head down, giving my forehead a gentle kiss before dropping me on the couch, “Well you’re impossible.” He shook his head, walking out of the room in his hope to avoid the conversation.

“Don’t think you’re getting off so easy mister!” I yelled over my shoulder. “I will find that phone!”

I heard him chuckle from the kitchen over the banging of pans.

“And don’t think you can shut me up with your cooking either!” I yelled again. Blood was pumping through my veins and I was enjoying this little spat far too much.

In truth, I loved Edgar’s cooking. Over a thousand years of life had taught him well. As I sunk into the malleable leather, I finally began to calm down as I thought about the white cat. Maybe it really had been my imagination. After all, my mind was bored to tears trapped inside this house and yet, it was also nice being so close to Edgar. If I was going to face imminent death, at least I would have known what it was like to cry, love, and laugh.

I thought about what Edgar meant by opposites, it was like, besides sharing a soul, we also shared a body. He was strong, I was sharp, he was able to create illusions, and I could manipulate the earth. That’s when I realized, it wasn’t being cooped up that was driving me mad, it was the fact that I was so far from nature, like the fish in the tanks of the hatchery, right next to the lake they so longed to swim.

I sat up as the delightful smells from the kitchen filled my lungs. I shuffled into the room already glowering, my wool socks hanging from my ankles in lazy drapes

“Edgar I need to get out,” I sighed.

He gave me a cautioning look. “Elle please don’t start being difficult again. I’m afraid if you go out they’ll see you. Or worse yet, he will see you. For all I know they’re already out there, waiting for you to be dumb enough to go outside and expose yourself.”

An angry growl rumbled in my chest as I sat on the stool and looked at my reflection in the copper counter. My eyes were like tiny pearls and I found myself staring. Edgar wiped his hand on a towel as he threw some pasta into a giant pot over the fire. He walked around the island and stood behind me, tracing his strong hands down my arms and placing his chin on my shoulder.

“What would happen if I just didn’t eat? If we live forever, why do we?” I asked with sudden interest.

He laughed, “That’s a good question. Remember how I told you Matthew was drawn, tired and old? That’s what happens. We may live forever, but everyone needs nourishment.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. I was hoping if I didn’t eat maybe you’d give me some freedom.” I sighed.

“Come on Elle, soon you can do whatever you want, we just need to wait.” His breath was intoxicating and it quickly clouded my mind. I sulked into the counter and he only made it harder for me as he wrapped his arms around my stomach, grazing my ear with his lips.

“Edgar…” I paused, my mind becoming cloudy and distracted and my anger leaving me as I desperately tried to clutch onto it and keep my spiteful hold on him.

“I love you Estella,” his voice was like a drug seeping into my blood, numbing every receptor.

I melted into his arms, “Do you really though? You always get close, but then quickly back away.” My words were sassy, yet soft.

I felt his mouth curl into a smile, his lips still touching my ear. “I do think about other things Elle, I am a man after all. But I also have the desire not to kill you and I think that’s what’s most important.”

I blushed, realizing where this conversation was going. Edgar had succeeded in stupefying me, making me forget what I’d marched in here to say. His warmth was wrapping me in cotton, stuffing my thoughts and confusing my anger.

“Yeah but I mean, even when we sleep, though you’re right there, you’re still so far away.”

He exhaled with a mused chuckle, “Exactly, I’m trying not to kill you.”

I heard his point, but it wasn’t enough. “But you used to,” I pried. I remembered the shape of the sheets that first day in my room.

He sighed, seeing my point of view. “Elle you sound like an addict, and that’s what concerns me.” His grip around my stomach slowly released and he rounded the counter to look at me with deep blue eyes. “I understand your point, but we need to be careful, if we are the last of our kind, that’s really important,” his voice sounded taxed, but there was something else there, something he needed to tell me.

I kept watching with a skeptical eye, waiting in silence.

He walked back toward the fire, averting his eyes from me, “I need to go down to the college for a bit this afternoon, it seems the teachers that are still here are getting suspicious.” He was frowning, “I guess one of them was actually dumb enough to try and touch me but instead their hand passed right through me, the hologram, you know?”

I felt a sudden burst of rebellious thought run into my head and I saw him take notice. His eyes glared at me, a much darkened shade of blue grey. “And don’t start thinking that means you’re going to find the phone,” he said bluntly.

I gave him a mischievous grin, “What makes you think I’d find that?” My voice was pitchy and fake.

He snorted, “I’m serious Elle, this is for your own good, don’t do anything stupid.”

I breathed hard through my nose and slouched into the stool, “Fine.”

He looked at me then, his eyes still serious and dark, “Promise me Elle?”

I exhaled, refusing to agree, “Yeah yeah, ok, I’ll be safe.” I was swatting him away with my hand but my mind was still vindictively thinking.

He served me a bowl of Juniper Berry pasta and I winced at the smell, “This smells like a pine tree!” I protested.

He looked at me sideways, “Seriously, you’re really testing my patience today Elle, just eat.” He pointed at my bowl with a spatula in his hand and a stern face.

I took one bite and my taste buds were again bursting with flavor. Rolling my eyes with joy, Edgar looked at me with relieved approval, gently kissing me on the cheek as he went to grab his coat. I looked around the room when he left for a hidden closet, trying hard to search out where he could possibly stuff a phone. If he could so easily hide a giant painting, it was hard to say what else was hidden as well.

When he walked back into the room he had his black boots and wool coat on and my chewing slowed as my eyes watched him. His handsome and unearthly beauty was breathtaking. Every day was like living with an angel, but as I looked in the mirror, I too was amazed at what I’d become from the almost constant lethal touch of his pearly skin.

My eyes darted to his hand as his eyebrows rose until his face contorted into an evil glare. I let out an annoyed sigh. In his grasp he held an old looking dial phone, the cord still attached to the back as though ripped from the wall.

“Just in case,” he smiled, dangling it before me with sick satisfaction.

I gave him a sour frown. “Whatever,” I spat, but he just laughed at me. He was obviously pleased with the torture he was putting me through.

He walked up to me and pecked my temple before turning and leaving the room. I heard the door slam as he left the house through the garage and I dropped my fork in the bowl with a loud irritated clang and ran to the window where I saw him walk out the side door, his black figure loping across the field with the eloquence of a mountain lion.

He looked back briefly before diving into the trees, obviously content that there was nothing behind him and the house invisible in its massive glory. I dragged my feet back to the kitchen where I stabbed my fork irritably through another bunch of noodles and shoved it in my mouth.

The ticking clocks all over the house were beginning to make me mad, every day without fail, ‘tick ‘tick ‘tick. It was enough to drive the sanest man into insanity. Maybe Edgar Allan wasn’t writing about Edgar’s decent into madness over lost love, but his stupid love affair with clocks.

I kicked the wall below the island, finally furious beyond reason. I threw my fork in the sink and stormed upstairs. I was tired of being trapped. This was stupid and childish, for goodness sake, I was eternally eighteen and by human standards, a legal adult a few times over. I ruffled through my closet as my mind let go of all the rules that had been binding me here. I searched until I found my shearling boots and sweater and pulled them on with such veracity that I broke a sweat.

I stormed downstairs to the hall closet and grabbed my coat, wrapping it around me and pulling the hood over my head. I fished in my pocket for my gloves where I pulled them gruffly over my hands without a second thought about what I was doing. Tromping to the door, I grasped the brass handle with determination, letting out an annoyed grumble as I twisted it and quickly walked onto the porch, letting the door slam behind me in my stubbornness. I had no idea where I was going but I figured anywhere was better than here.

My body was still invisible as I stood on the stoop, looking around the field with caution, but also a soaring heart. Everything was silent, but not too silent, and that was good. I raised one rebelliously firm foot and planted it in the deep snow as a sense of utter satisfaction flooded over me. The soft crunching sound it made was inviting as I released my other foot, stomping it down with the same force right next to the other.

Exhaling, I twisted my head around and looked at the now empty field behind me. As I turned back, I looked up at the expanse of blue sky as I let the now sunny sky soak into my skin and warm my shoulders. My gaze then tilted down to my feet as I began walking forward, my eyes watching how the pristine snow collapsed under my weight. Keeping my eyes on my toes, I noticed that the footsteps behind me magically re-inflated, leaving no trace of my presence as though I were a ghost of life. My face was bright with amazement and I put my hand to my chest where I felt for life until a small flicker of delight was audible in my soul.

A content breath fell from my lips but as I went to inhale I jumped as a distinct rustle rumbled from the woods in front of me. I glanced up as my horrified eyes watched as the treetops silently moved as though disturbed, but there was no wind. I began to back away as I looked behind me but to my horror, I realized that I didn’t know how to get back inside the house. The breathing in my chest quickened as I searched the open field for a place to hide, my mind beginning to accept that this could be it, the moment I was waiting for.

I found myself hopeless as my body began to shake. It was then I saw something dodged between the trees, and I froze, hoping that it wouldn’t sense my presence. My breathing was hushed as I knelt close to the ground, the thing now emerging into the meadow from the shadows. At first I was a little shocked that what I saw hadn’t exactly been what I’d expected. Still breathing hard, I squinted as I tried to recognize the figure, straightening my stand as my interest got the best of me. I took one careful and slow step forward as it advanced; its pace rapid but calm.

The silence ceased as it spoke. “What do you think you’re doing out here?” the figure boomed, his voice full of sarcasm, not hate.

I cringed, finally recognizing the irritating face of my past, “Sam?” I looked at his angelic expression in a daze.

He laughed, “The one and only.”

I looked at him sideways, “What are you doing here?” There was something about him that was very strange, but my mind was still racing in initial fear so it was hard to discern.

“Just doing what I came here for,” he replied.

I crossed my hands against my chest, my breath escaping in steamy clouds, hot with sudden anger. I wasn’t sure exactly what he’d come here for, but I hoped it hadn’t been me.

“Oh come on,” he grinned, “Don’t be like that.”

I snorted, “Like what?” I glanced at his strong features. His hair was still the same scruffy brown and his face unshaven. His skin was a lot like Edgar’s, smooth and young, but much paler and there was a hint of blue under his eyes. I looked down to his clothing and I gawked at the fact he was still wearing gym shoes, even in the snow.

A sudden menacing laugh echoed through the meadow. “I realize their impracticality.” He was looking at his feet.

I pushed my brows together and he looked at me but I quickly looked away, his gaze electric and somehow invading. How had he read my facial expression with such ease?

“So,” he began, “As I was saying, what do you think you’re doing out here? I’m pretty sure you were told to stay out of trouble and stay inside.”

I shot my angry eyes back at him, “What do you know about my rules?”

He winked, “I know because it’s my job to know. I was appointed to watch you.”

I threw my hands down to my sides, shifting my weight onto one foot with sass, my mind now accepting that he wasn’t a threat, at least not a threat to my life. “What?” I screamed, the echoes reverberating off the neighboring trees, “He hired you to watch me?”

Sam smirked at my utter disdain.

“And how exactly are you going to protect me?” I snorted.

His smirk was unchanged, “Well, it’s kind of what I’m made for.” He walked closer to me, his body now just a foot away and it was then that I realized what was so strange about him. My eyes widened as I looked over his shoulders at the two large humps that protruded from his back. To my surprise, tucked close to his spine, was a full set of muddied grey wings.

I gasped, quickly stepping around and behind him as I circled his body in amazement, “Wha…” I began, but Sam cut me off.

“Yes Estella, they’re wings, I am aware.” He sighed, moving them slightly in his attempt to amaze me further.

My mind had been getting sharper over the past weeks, but what I saw before me was still considerably confusing.

I walked back around to the front of him and looked into his golden brown eyes in shock, “Well, so then you’re like, an angel?”

He nodded, “A Guardian angel actually.”

I raised one eyebrow, “Are you serious?” A sharp mocking exhale passes my lips, “Really. You’ve got to be joking.”

He spread his large wings and I watched in amazement as they stretched out eight feet on either side of him, “I don’t think these would lie, do you?”

I stared at the layers of feathers, all delicately placed as they fanned out in thick sheets. They were somewhat pearly, but more a metallic silver and not quite as brilliant as Edgar’s. Their warm grey was unlike anything I would stereotypically guess of angel wings and their sheer size was shocking and surreal.

“Okay, so say I believe you,” I finally said.

Sam gave me a dubious half smile.

“Then how long exactly, have you been watching me?” I now felt as though my privacy had been violated, Edgar hadn’t even asked my permission and I was angry with him. I thought about that day in class, when Sam had weaseled his way next to me, Edgar had looked so amused by my utter discomfort. Originally, I figured he was going to be furious that some strange and eerily handsome man was treating me with such interest, but now it ends up they were friends, or rather business partners.

Sam seemed to wait to answer my question until my thought process was done and I looked at him with an apologetic face as though sorry that I’d kept him waiting.

He crossed his arms. “Oh no,” he chuckled, “I’ve been watching you much longer than that, and for the record, I wasn’t hitting on you. You were being absolutely impossible and that’s all. Edgar had warned me, but I had to see for myself.”

I grumbled at him.

“It’s okay Estella. Just, you know, being that I can read your mind, be careful what you think around me. I don’t need all your life details.” He was smiling at my dumbfounded face.

You can read my thoughts? I was testing his theory.

He nodded, “its part of the protection plan, hearing your thoughts makes it super easy for me to protect you, no secrets.” He smirked again and I grumbled at him even more.

I spoke without thinking, “The woods that day when I walked to the waterfall, you were there weren’t you?” I was infuriated that he was not only invading my privacy, but also my mind.

He nodded, “Gave you a bit of a start huh?” he chortled, patting me on the arm.

I grabbed his hand and threw it off me but when my skin touched his I squealed, “You’re freezing!”

He laughed again, his wings still outstretched, “I’m dead Estella. I wouldn’t really expect my body to be all that warm.” He looked behind him over his shoulder as his wings retracted further until they were hidden behind his back, as though they weren’t there.

I glanced over his shoulder as well, but wasn’t seeing what he had.

“Guess you’re in trouble now,” he teased, “Edgar’s coming.”

I looked at his angelically white face and powdery brown hair, “I don’t care, let him be mad. I think it’s me that deserves to be angrier.”

Sam shrugged, “It’s your funeral.”

I glared at Sam’s eyes as Edgar entered into the field. When my gaze flickered to meet his, his face was stone cold and angry, but as soon as he approached Sam, his look had somehow changed to one of amusement.

Edgar put one hand on Sam’s shoulder, “See you’ve got my girl here.” They both looked at me with twin glares.

A defiant snort shot from my mouth as my arms crossed with disobedience against my chest, “I’m not your girl if you lock me up like a dog,” I smarted toward Edgar, realizing Sam had already heard my reply in his mind.

Edgar laughed, “You’ll always be my girl Elle and you can’t deny that.”

I glowered at him with sharp eyes, flustered by the truth in his comment.

Edgar turned to Sam and they both snickered about something they were secretly thinking and I felt my blood boil.

“Thanks Sam,” Edgar said, “I can take her from here.”

Sam nodded and gave me a wink before turning and walking back into the woods, his wings hanging strong against his back through his same leather coat.

Edgar’s expression changed as he grabbed my arm with a firm grip. My face turned to a scowling frown as he removed his glasses and the full fury of his eyes were now exposed. “What do you think you are doing?” he snarled under his breath.

He dragged me to the middle of the field by my arm like a mother would with her disobedient child. I gave him a sour face, I wasn’t sorry for what I’d done, it was great out here, and besides, no harm had come of it.

“You’re really testing my patience Elle. I don’t think you really want to make me angry. It’s not safe out here. I’m not just saying that.” The iron grasp he had on me was relentless and he stopped to face me, his eyes still angry but beginning to soften under my touch.

My brows were fixed in stubborn anger.

“Look,” he sighed, “I understand…”

Something white popped through the snow over his shoulder and my gaze locked on the cat, peeping over a log, “Look, look Edgar!” I gasped, pointing one shaking hand toward the cat.

Edgar spun, a look of terror on his face, but the cat was already gone. His body was rigid and his chest rising. “Estella,” the way he said my name sent shivers down my spine, “Honestly, I’m taking you inside, and that’s it!” he hissed.

I was still looking to the log, waiting for the cat to pop its head back up as he dragged me away. After determining it wasn’t coming back, I looked at Edgar with a sheepish grin, hoping he’d forgive me.

He sighed. “I’m sorry,” his eyes were now calm, “I just, I can’t lose you ok? This is for your own good. You got your jollies out, now let’s just be careful ok?”

I nodded in compliance and despite my stubbornness I knew he was right. I was being stupid, but still. I saw what I saw and I knew whatever it was, wasn’t dangerous. I had the same feeling about the cat as I did that day in the woods, when something large was following me. Turns out, the giant thing was just Sam, spying on me. I snarled at the thought of it and I felt like a gullible idiot. This cat though, there was something about it. It was as though it was trying to get my attention, trying to tell me something important.

I watched him glancing around with a concentrated look on his face, “What are you doing?” I finally asked.

His eyes locked on mine, “Just listening to make sure there really isn’t something there. Sam would have said something though. He would have been able to hear its thoughts.”

I gave him a strange look, “See, you do believe me.”

His lips finally relaxed into a crooked smile, “Elle, I trust you, but I don’t think there’s anything there, really, I can’t hear anything. I don’t want to say it but I think you’re just seeing things”

Suddenly, without a warning from Edgar, everything began spinning and the snow was replaced with the black granite of the front hall. I was fuming as I stormed into the sitting room where I grabbed a book and pretended to read, refusing to discuss this any further.

Later that night I noticed Edgar looking at me with a strange fascination. His eyes kept darting to my face but then quickly glancing away before I looked at him. Biting my nails as we sat on the leather couch in the library, listening to Pavarotti, I thought about nothing but the cat. Its fur was strange and its eyes were so cooling and smart. I wondered if there was something Edgar had known about the cat, something that had been destined, but that he didn’t want me to know.

Edgar dropped his book into his lap with an abrupt slap. He yawned, “I think it’s about time to go to bed.”

My mind was still swimming and my forehead was tied in a bundle of frustration and residual anger. Edgar leaned into my neck, brushing his nose along my jaw as everything began to detangle. I shied away, refusing to let go of my anger, pushing away his effective attempts to make me forget about what had happened.

“You could use the rest.” Without a warning he scooped me up off the couch and I gave in like a rag doll.

It wasn’t so bad being treated this way and it was certainly nice to be so lazy. As he walked toward the stairs I began to think about Sam.

“How is Sam an angel?” My eyes scanned Edgar’s smooth chin and face.

Edgar looked down at me with a soft smile, “He was human once, in the sixties.” He paused, “I was there when he died.” He sighed.

“But then how did he become a Guardian angel?” My mind was swimming. Typically, humans just died and that was it, the end, or at least that’s what I’d thought.

He was still looking at me as he navigated the stairs. “He was shot, in New York,” he paused as we crested the top step, turning into my room. “He jumped in front of a bullet, saved a girl he hardly knew and then as he slowly died, he killed the perpetrator.”

My eyes grew with deep interest, “So that’s how he got the job then huh?”

Edgar smiled, “Yep, self-sacrifice. Hell of an interview, wasn’t it?”

I gave him a grave nod. “So that’s what he’ll do for the rest of eternity?” I asked.

Edgar nodded, “That’s why he’s a good friend. He will be here as long as we will. It’s comforting to know that.” He pushed back the covers and slid me inside before removing his own shoes and getting in beside me.

I sighed as Edgar continued.

“But he’s the best and I need the best to keep you safe.” I felt his hand slide under the covers toward me and I froze. His fingers grazed my hip and he pulled me toward him, wrapping his arms around my stomach. I drew in a careful breath, relishing the rare closeness. He put his head next to my ear, “You are my whole world Elle, and I would do anything to protect that,” he whispered.

I turned my head and he put his hand on my cheek, his other hand twisting my whole body to face him. He brushed the hair from my face before pressing his lips against mine. Breathing hard, I put a hand on his chest and felt his heart race. His lips coiled into a smile against my lips but he didn’t pull back like usual. He ran his fingers into my hair, forcefully grabbing it as his muscles flexed. His hand grazed my tummy and I giggled, opening my eyes to look at him.

He curled his mouth around my bottom lip. “You’re worth keeping alive,” he whispered, his breath like milk and honey.

I brushed my fingers across his cheek, feeling his velvety skin flex under my touch. His eyes scanned mine; their sapphire blue was deep and calm. I looked into the glittering facets, searching deep down for my soul, but before I found it, he closed his eyes and kissed me again. His breath was shaking as he finally pulled away and though I advanced toward him, this time he held me off. I exhaled in frustration, but he just smirked at me.

With a grumble, I flipped away from him, but this time he didn’t distance himself. I felt him wrap his arms around my shoulders as he cradled me. I waited for him to pull away but as his breathing slowed into measured deep draws, I realized he was asleep. I smiled, finding myself finally victorious.

HERE KITTY, KITTY…

“Okay Elle, open your eyes,” I had forgotten Edgar was blindfolding me. The touch of his warm hands on my face was clouding my mind.

Slowly, I opened my eyes to a room of fledgling plants. “Oh, Edgar!” I gasped.

I noticed the room was a new addition to the library. Every wall, including the ceiling, was molded of a crystal green glass with rusty iron grids. My gaze fell to the six large tables propped up on the gravel floor. Each table housed what appeared to be different varieties of plant buds in various pots and planters. I looked to the back of the room where, to my rebellious delight, he’d installed a door. For a brief vindictive moment I thought of my escape until noticing there was a little note attached to the glass in Edgar’s writing,

Don’t even think about it…

I frowned but then turned and looked at Edgar.

The look on his face was full of happiness as he watched me, “I had a little trouble getting things started. It’s not the easiest thing to handle something so delicate when you’re a life ending brute like me,” his grin turned awkward at the thought. “Everything is probably dead.”

Running into his arms, a sharp exhale was thrust from my lungs as my cheek hit his rock hard chest. “Oh I love it!” I shrieked, “Besides, I can fix anything you managed to kill already.”

He laughed, wincing at my shrill voice on his sensitive ears, “I hope so, because those purple clovers you left behind in the cabin were impossible to plant.”

I turned back on the room where I spotted the gnarled blooms by the far left table.

His voice crept up behind me, his mouth right next to my ear, “I figured after the incident last week that if I was trapping you here, it was unfair of me to keep you from your second love.”

Twisting my head to face him, my eyes gave him a playful glare, “Who says they’re my second love?”

Edgar’s mouth coiled into a cunningly gorgeous grin.

I smiled as he kissed me on the forehead, my grasp holding him there before he finally won the battle and backed away, his eyes blue enough to make even the sky jealous.

“So now you have your greenhouse and I have my library, Merry Christmas Elle.” His voice was smug as he glanced at me over his nose.

I folded my arms across my chest in defeat.

Edgar winked at me before turning and leaving the room. I looked back toward my fledgling plants as excitement filled my dimming soul. The mid-winter sun streamed in through the glass, touching each box with the perfect light.

I looked through the blue-green glass to the meadow with a guarded eye. There were still no signs of Matthew and my body filled with more anxiety at every passing minute. In the last week the white cat continued to pop up in my peripherals, but every time I looked at the movement straight on, nothing was there. Whatever it was, it was fast.

Isabelle and Henry flew into the room where they landed on the edge of a box close to the glass. Isabelle’s head was tilted toward the field and I smirked at her. Being in this house gave her an invisibly unfair advantage on hunting. As a hawk, she has no need to use doors so she simply flies in and out as she pleases, wall or no wall. Henry snapped at her as they both fought over something in the field.

She lightly clicked her tongue, fanning her wings in irritation and ducking her head to pounce. Her eyes quickly gazed at me and I gave her a reproachful glare. She ignored my threat as she looked back to the field, releasing her grip on the table with a sudden burst of energy and lunging through the glass before Henry even had a chance to react.

I watched as she fanned herself with poise and agility across the snow, snatching up a frantic field mouse that was helplessly trying to tread through the drifts. I winced as my heart went out to the fragile life now hanging in her iron grasp. Henry dodged at her in his attempt to steal the meal, but she shot skyward and out of my view. Shaking my head, I looked back to my plants, trying not to think about Isabelle’s lunch.

As I walked down the aisles, the delicate buds leaned toward me. I reached out and touched one as it began to flourish to full size like a film stuck in fast-forward. The beautiful sunflower that now loomed before me made my soul flutter and I felt the adrenaline in my blood pumping hard. Edgar had left me surprised, it was hard for me to tell exactly what he’d planted and so with each bud I found a new secret gift.

There was a pot of dirt in the corner where a small bud reached toward a trellis that climbed the wall. I approached with curiosity as I scanned the ceiling in thought, imagining what I would hope it to be. I knelt down beside the pot and put my face right up next to the bud. I shut my eyes and blew on the tiny leaves as my breath of life tickled the air around it. Like igniting a fire, there was a series of delicate snapping noises and I stood up, my eyes still shut as the sounds crackled overhead and filled the room with noise like popping popcorn.

There was a sudden burst of fragrance as I finally opened my eyes, my nose tickling with a delightfully sweet scent. I looked at the ceiling as the purple clematis burst over half the greenhouse, creating the perfect canopy for my partial sun plants to find shade.

Content, I gazed skyward as I suddenly heard Edgar’s light seductive laugh. Startled, I shot my eyes toward the door where I found his perfect body leaning against the frame, his arms crossed against his chest and his angelic face plastered with a sly grin.

I suddenly frowned, noticing that he was wearing his large wool coat.

He snorted at my sulking face, “Just for a little bit ok?”

I stamped my foot like a two year old and he laughed, leaning away from the door and stepping down into the greenhouse. He walked down from the door and wrapped me in his arms. His large limbs engulfed me as I rested my head against his robust chest, like rocks against my cheek.

“But I didn’t give you your Christmas present yet,” my voice was muffled by his coat.

He pulled me away, “You weren’t supposed to get me anything, remember? I hope you didn’t go outside for this.” He eyed me with caution.

Laughing, I shook my head, “Yeah right, you’ve hardly given me a moment to look out the window, let alone sneak outside.”

He gave me an approving smile, “That’s true. So then, what did you manage to find?”

The sly smile on my face was sharp, “Well, I was going through all the things in my room and I found something. It looked like something I always meant to give you, of course, who knows why you need it. I know it’s not for me at least, and besides, it was already engraved.”

I pulled a brown box out from the pocket of my sweatshirt.

There was a surprised smile on his face and I was relieved, realizing he really had never seen it before. “And I thought I knew of everything in this house,” he breathed.

I stood on my toes with pride, my hands laced behind my back, “I guess not.”

Edgar opened the box with care, his large hands fumbling with the string. He fished his fingers through the strips of paper until I saw his hand freeze. A smile curled across his face as he pulled the silver timepiece from within, the chain following in dutiful succession.

“I figured that it was for you. I hate clocks but you seem to adore them.” My eyes scanned his as they began to tear up.

“I never knew,” he breathed, his voice cracking. He snapped open the cold silver and read the description inside,

Your heart is my heart, I love you.

Your Elle.

A tear finally rolled over his pearly skin as it glistened in the sun, “You had said you had something for me, but that day, you…” he paused, his eyes darkening before suddenly coming back with life, “I love it Elle. I do.” He leaned toward me and kissed me on the forehead before leaning back and dropping the timepiece into his pocket. With caution, I helped him fasten the chain to his belt, my hands grazing his stomach as he shied away, a smile curling onto his face.

Sighing, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and rested his chin on my head, “I trust that this time you’ll stay inside when I leave? Just remember, Sam is watching.” His breath fell through my hair, and I shuddered.

I smiled, looking up at him, “Yeah, I promise.”

His hands laced through my hair and he kissed the top of my head before stepping away. He winked at me as he swiftly left the room and I ran to the glass, pushing my hands against it and feeling the welcoming coolness on my hot palms. I waited as he treaded across the field, his gait still beautiful and fast, my heart beating in love.

Sighing as he disappeared into the woods, I walked back into the house. In the library, I again looked to the small arched room with deepening interest in the fascinating curio. My obsession with the painting was insatiable, their faces all telling a story and its juxtaposed mystique driving me mad.

I climbed up the new ladder Edgar had found for me after one of the rungs finally snapped. Luckily, he had been there to catch me before I cracked my head on the couch. The event wouldn’t have killed me, but it would have been an excruciating and somewhat messy accident.

I ran my hands along the books as I always had. The once dusty leather was now clean from my frequent visitations. I watched as my fingers thudded against the spines, my eyes sharp with childish interest.

My fingers hit a small dent in the stack and I halted and stepped back a few steps where I knelt down. My eyes were level with the books, my attention on one in particular. I felt my eyes wince as the leather glittered, the gold now very noticeable and bright. All this time the dust had been hiding its beauty from me and I wondered why I hadn’t noticed it sooner.

Tilting my head, my fingers grazed across the gold stamped words of the spine but I found that it was written in Italian. I hooked my hand into the binding and pulled it from the stack as the light flashed across it, causing me to glance away for a quick reprieve. I took a deep breath before turning back, blowing a gentle breath across the cover and removing the rest of the hazy film.

Something about it spoke to me, something strange. I opened to the first page, still all Italian. There was a delicately stamped etching of a black crow in a tree that was framing the first words on the page,

Nell’inizio, il corvo era soltanto mezzo…

I read the first couple words, rolling them around in my mind but finding no translation. My eyes darted to the stamping, analyzing it with close inspection before flipping to the middle of the book. I looked at the pages in shock as I found them completely blank. Confused, I grabbed the book by its spine and flipped back through the pages until words again flashed across my eyes.

I went page to page, taking in the strange and unassuming images. Mostly, there where just ravens. Some were white and black, in large gatherings and small, but none of it made any sense to me. The images were just snippets of what the words could explain. As I turned to the next page I was shocked by the eerie images I found there.

The large imprint was unmistakable, its feline eyes dreadfully familiar. My heart rate quickened as I stared at the white cat standing openly in a field. The cats back was arched into a sly stance and its tail snaking around its feet. Its fur seemed perfect and its eyes calm and inviting but also full of information and knowing, as though the stories within belonged to it alone. I looked at the words with frustration, angry that I couldn’t translate.

I let out an irritated snarl as I looked to the next page for some other clue. As I curved it over, I was discouraged to find the image was just as inconspicuous, the cat was drawn from a distance, entering a cave with caution. With hast I flipped to the next page, but I found nothing. The pages from there on were blank as though the nothingness of the cave had swallowed the rest.

I let out a disappointed breath as I slammed the book shut in my frustration, walking with it hooked under my arm as I entered the small sitting space. I threw myself into the chair where I held the book close to my chest, staring at the group of friends and foes before me.

“What aren’t you telling me,” I hissed under my breath, glaring with bitterness at my face in the painting.

My gaze shot toward each male with an accusing glare, even Edgar. Each had the potential to be a killer, but then, as I looked into their eyes, they all had a glimmer that was void from Matthews, something I recognized to be love, pure and enduring. It had frustrated me that there were no clues in the painting, no hints toward the brutal end besides his sinister glare. I had scanned the thick layers of paint for what seemed hours, day after day, but still nothing.

A warm sensation was filling my chest and I found myself startled as I looked down at the book in my grasp. The feeling had been so subtle that I hadn’t noticed it at first but to my surprise, it was warm. I knew when I had sat with the book that something had been strange, but it hadn’t registered as a feeling from the book, but a feeling from me and as the fire in my soul died, the books warmth was now taking over. I squeezed it tighter to my chest, relishing the feeling as though it were another soul.

I began to doze as I sat there, the comforting space closing in around me like a protective shroud, much like being in Edgar’s arms. As things began to fog and my eyes grew tired I was jolted awake as I heard a distant, yet distinct, meow. I shot my eyes open where I scanned the room with urgency. Sitting up, I tried to discern if what I’d heard was a dream or real. I sat perfectly still, my ears now tuned into the noises around me.

Irritated again by the distracting and inconvenient ticking of clocks, I struggled to pay attention. I jumped as the grandfather clock in the hall began to chime, my breathing heavy and my heart beating like a drum in my chest. Then, between two echoing gongs, I heard the meow again, this time long and whiny as though angry or threatened.

I shot up from the chair, the book dropping to the floor as I rushed to the rail. I listened again and this time, a distinct growling snarl came from the greenhouse. With a sudden surge of haste and energy I ran around the perimeter of the library where I stumbled down the ladder, careful not to create too much noise. I skidded to a halt just outside the door of the greenhouse, scanning with wide and wary eyes.

Isabelle was perched in a threatening manner on the edge of a table with her wings spread in a defensive pose. The white cat was cowering on the floor before her with its ears pinned back and its eyes glinting in the sunlight, its pupils a sharp white. I blinked a few times, my mind allowing the cat to become a real thing, not just a figment of my imagination. The cat spat at Isabelle as it swatted at her with its claws. Its fur was standing on end and I noticed how it seemed to glow, even whiter than the snow itself.

“Isabelle no!” I yelled, and the cat broke its iron gaze from Isabelle to me. Isabelle’s eyes stayed fixed on the cat, her beak open with hate. “Isabelle!” I yelled, “Stop that!”

She lunged toward the cat with a fake hop as her talons dug deeper into the wood of the table. The cat hissed, cowering even more before glancing at me with a defeated face and turning to run. It leapt through the glass with a careless effort, its paws splashing through the heavy drifts with ease. Before I knew what I was doing, I took off after the cat, glaring at Isabelle as I ran by, telling her to stay put with my angry eyes.

I burst through the door of the greenhouse, ignoring Edgar’s warning as it was ripped from the glass. Suddenly, the house disappeared behind me and my breath began to fog in the frigid air. I scanned the field with frantic eyes, finally catching a glimpse of a bobbing tail leaping into the trees. I took off after it, my new strong body and sharp sightenabling me to keep up with its rapid gait.

I leapt over the log, shielding my face from branches as I entered the woods. In my desperation, the trees tried to help, lunging their branches at the cat as it dodged over them, as though anticipating every attempt. Edgar’s voice boomed across my memory, his angry face contorted as he’d warned me to stay inside. I pushed the thought away, concentrating only on the cat’s tail.

A shadow flew overhead and I pushed my eyebrows together in irritation as I saw Sam looming above me, his giant wings cutting through the air in long delicate strokes. I watched as he cut and dove to the left with a sharp gust of wind and I looked away, still desperate to follow the cat.

Surprised, I watched as the cat skidded to a stop just ahead of me. It turned to face me, its eyes frantic but harmless. I quickly halted, my bare feet slipping on the snow, fighting for balance as my hands flailed around me. The cat began to trot toward me, its face trying to say something, something foreboding and urgent. The cat then cowered, its gaze diverting from mine as it looked behind me.

The shrill cry of a raven cut through the air and the hairs on my neck rose with instant fear and I whipped my head around, terror paralyzing my body. The cat began to back away, its fur blending with the snow and hiding its escape. I tried to scream as a cloud of a dozen black ravens descended upon me, their talons ready to strike. I saw Sam dive up from the trees, his wings halting as he came down on a group of them, their sharp screams filling the air with a deafening cry. The cat hissed before bolting out of my view and though I longed to follow, my life was now in peril.

The ravens that got past Sam dove down and hit me hard, their sharp beaks tearing through my skin and slicing me like razorblades. My lungs began to tighten as they had the day in the meadow and my breath became shallow and short. Their eyes seared through my thoughts, ripping through every memory like a knife and stealing all I had to give. A scream was choked in my throat and everything became dark and cloudy. I fell to the ground, the ravens still attacking. Sam’s voice was too far to save me as the sounds of shrill death and anger surrounded me.

My mind was screaming the only word it could possibly manage through the thick confusion, “Edgar!” my thoughts yelled, but my lips ceased to find the words as the world went dark and the ground below me disappeared.

FEATHER

My body screamed to life as I came to, groaning in pain and gripping my chest, my whole body now tight and throbbing. It was very cold and I was shaking with an uncontrolled rumble as I laid on something cold and damp. My breath was dragging in my lungs and my throat was caked in blood as the taste of iron and death threatened to choke me.

“Sam?” I murmured, the words catching through the thick bubbles of blood.

“Ahh,” a voice rang in my head. “You’re awake, you little escapist.” The harsh voice hissed like velvety hot coals, his breath blowing across my ear, intoxicating and hideous.

I tried to scream but my body buckled, gripping in on itself as I brought my knees to my chest. What had I done? Where was Sam?

“Estella,” my name curled from my captor’s mouth like poison in his lungs, “You were always so naïve!” he yelled. “This entire thing is your fault you stupid child.”

My arms stung and I could feel the thick blood seeping from them like honey. I writhed on the hard cold surface, the pain more than I could bear and my head fogged and weak. The deep cuts covered my milky skin as I was finally able to focus my vision.

“Where have you put it Estella,” his voice was soft and menacing, measured breaths escaping from his mouth as though attempting to remain calm. I struggled to open my eyes, to see my captor, but the terror in me suggested I’d already known.

Squeezing my eyes shut I pressed away the pain as I recoiled, my teeth bared in agony. He was looking for my soul, the soul I thankfully did not possess.

“Where!” the voice suddenly boomed, echoing painfully through my empty soul and causing me to arch back in pain, my chest exposed and throbbing. “You can’t keep me from my destiny Estella, my power!”

My hands clenched into tight fists as they scraped across the sharp stones, my mind forcing death away as my fingernails dug into the ground. I felt my body lift from the hard cold surface though no hands were grasping me. I heard Matthew exhale with a sharp heave of his breath, my body now flying like a limp rag across the room. As my shoulder crashed into a wall my eyes jarred open and my mouth tried to scream. I landed on the cold hard floor where I made a move to pick myself up, but my arms refused to grant me the strength and my head was nauseated as I heaved blood onto the floor.

“You can’t keep it from me you little brat!” His voice was echoing against the walls and I glanced upward, the light in the room dark and murky. “You think you’re so special, so talented and smart,” he spat with a hint of jealously. “I was promised a grand life for this, and that’s exactly what I’ll have. You stand as no challenge to me, and you will not live up to your name.”

My blurred gaze fell upon his familiar face, his eyes pitch black and endless and his skin yellowed and thin. My body was trembling and the pain in my chest was begging my heart to stop, to die and give up.

He laughed as my shaking eyes met his and I could smell my blood as it streamed down my face.

“Estella,” he hissed. “You’re keeping me from what I want, what I need!” he bellowed. “If you just tell me where it is, foolish girl, then I will let you die. Where is your soul?”

I swallowed hard, trying to clear the blood from my throat, coughing in sharp painful bouts as some more came back up. “You…” I was struggling, holding my upper body off the ground as the pain became so strong that my body felt numb and my limbs dangerously drained of blood. “You won’t find it,” I cried, my arms buckled as I slammed back to the floor where my teeth cracked against the stones and sent a searing pain through my jaw.

I was suddenly choked as something gripped at my neck, lifting me up off the floor. “You can’t win!” he yelled, his eyes storming like a pool of silver mercury as he approached me, his face close to mine and his noxious breath sucking the air from my lungs. His hairless brows and head were hideous and distorted in frustration and his face was old as his clammy skin glistened with puss, all the youth now long gone.

“Don’t you know, you stupid girl,” his mouth was black with tar and his teeth rotted, “That your beloved Edgar won’t save you. He didn’t last time, and he won’t now. I’ve got a lot in store for him, the most painful death imaginable,” his eyes scorched through mine and I tried to look away. “After I kill you, he will be in ruins and I will prevail. I will be granted the opportunity to advance, to take over!” His voice boomed through the chamber, rocks crumbling around us.

I had no way of knowing where I was or how I got here. I looked toward the ceiling as he continued to choke me, but it was endless like a well. There were ravens towering on all sides, all watching me with their soulless and hungry eyes.

“You were all so weak, so useless with your stupid worldly desires.” He released his invisible grip on my throat just seconds before I blacked out. “You were all a waste!” he screamed, throwing one hand in the air in his anguish, “We had so much power to learn, so much strength to gain!” He turned to pace the room as I sat on the floor, my leg aching and I could tell it was broken, “With you out of my way, with Edgar gone,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “I will have no one to stop me, I will kill it all, take all the energy the world possesses! And no one will be stronger than me,” his eyes were screaming with a powerful hate, “No one!”

I winced. His voice was deep and shrill. My heart was racing and the adrenaline in my blood was like hot lava, burning its way through my deep open wounds. I tried to listen to his words, but my fear was too intense and too shadowy. My thoughts focused on Edgar, I couldn’t do this to him, why had I let him down.

Matthew laughed again, dark and sinister, “This is what we all could have done together, but none of you believed me,” he spat. “And Margriete,” there was a deep untamed hatred to his voice, “you should have heard her pleas, the way she begged for me to stop all this.” I saw an evil smile curl onto his lips, “Stupid girl.”

A veil of darkness shrouded me and I stifled my body’s cries to give up. Suddenly, the ravens overhead began to cry, their sharp voices filling the cavern as I recoiled, my ears ringing.

“Ah,” he breathed, looking to the sky and holding out his arms as all the ravens flew upward in a sharp rush of wind and into the night, “It seems he came for you after all!” His sinister laugh echoed through the now empty cavern.

My body grimaced. “Edgar,” I whispered under my breath, “No.”

Suddenly, my body slammed against the wall and my limbs contorted with pain. Matthew’s mind was manipulating me, breaking whatever life there was left inside and I struggled to remain conscious. As he lifted me off the floor I shut my eyes, my mind pleading for it to stop. He shot me skyward in one violent throw, my velocity fast and painful in my ears.

We breached the top of the cavern where we were now outside, the air fresh but damp. It was dark, but I could feel the openness against my skin and the wind grazing across my wet blood. He threw me to the ground like a used rag and I cried out in pain.

“Matthew!” Edgar’s voice echoed over the earth and my heart began to beat hard at the sound.

As I lay there dying, I felt the texture of the fresh dirt beneath me and I realized we were no longer in the snowy forest, but the misty thickets of London. The rain that fell on me was thick and cool as it washed my blood into the Earth, drinking it gratefully. I rested my face in the mud, my cheeks swollen and tender as it welcomed the cold earth. Roots began to grow around me in their desperate attempt to protect me as I heard Edgar’s voice again.

“You leave her alone. She does not have what you want!” His voice was fierce and now close.

I whispered his name but the beating rain hushed my gentle cry.

“So,” Matthew sneered, “then I suppose you do.” He sounded confident and angry.

I heard Edgar’s heavy feet advancing toward me, but then there was a sudden explosion of energy and he grunted in pain, the splashing of bodies landing ten feet away, sliding along the wet ground and leaving a brutal trail of destruction.

The earth began to wrap me in its healing strength and the grass below me started working to mend my wounds. The stinging began to subside as I felt my deep cuts closing and healing. My leg stopped aching as I felt it crunch back into place. I shuddered as Matthew’s angry steps advanced toward me.

My mind made a move to save itself, my adrenaline taking over and my body again whole. In one quick rush, I rolled onto my back, clenching my jaw as I looked Matthew in the eye, my limbs quickly moving as I saw him looming over me. The roots that had healed my wounds grabbed at his ankles, locking his position. With all my strength, I kicked him in the face and my boots dug deep into his delicate aged skin.

He doubled back with surprising ease, his body hunching over as the roots snapped and the dark rain ran in streams across his now mauled profile. He whipped his head back toward me as he pulled what looked like a gold dagger from his coat and lunged toward me, his eyes blazing with fury and skin hanging from his face.

It was then that Sam flew out of nowhere, his wings stroking the wet air like booms of thunder. His strong body slammed into Matthew’s side, and together, they slid fifteen feet through the muddy lose earth, leaving a large trench where the water now flowed. I looked in shock as Sam’s wings engulfed Matthew and I could no longer see what was happening.

I quickly stood to my feet, my scars fading faster than I had expected and my strength returning. Edgar was standing on the other end of the field, his fists clenched in anger. I took off at a run toward Sam and Matthew as they wrestled on the ground. Skidding to a stop, I heard Edgar yell my name over the beating rain.

“Elle no! Get away from him!” His voice was sharp and frantic.

I watched in horror as Matthew grabbed Sam by the throat, bringing his arm back and throwing him across the field with surprising strength.

“Sam!” I screamed. Matthew glanced at me, his eyes blazing black.

“You little liar!” he hissed, approaching me with the dagger still in his hand.

I saw Edgar’s breathing quicken and he suddenly lunged at Matthew’s back. My mouth fell in horror and my eyes became wide, afraid that we’d lose it all if Edgar were harmed. Matthew saw my sudden shock and twisted around to face me as Edgar still struggled to bring him down, his fist smacking into Matthew’s face and twisting it to the side.

I ran at Matthew as he staggered to the side and I tackled him, wrapping my legs around his waist as I slashed at his face with my nails, the roots again struggling to contain him in their desperate attempt to save me. As I viciously tried to take him down, he grabbed my neck like a kitten and flipped me over his head and down to the earth. My breath was knocked from my lungs as my body formed a deep crater.

Hot water began to bubble up around me, filling the crater as I stood. Breathing with a heavy anger, I clenched my teeth in fury and hate, Margriete’s laughing face now close at mind. My eyes scanned the field, frantically trying to find Edgar as my eyes found Sam instead, his body hunched down to the ground, ready to pounce with his wings spread into a beautiful fan of fury.

My gaze then found Matthew as he ran from me, the skin on his face now gone and his eyes dark as night. My clothes were heavy and wet as I struggled out of the hole now almost completely filled with water.

When I emerged, Matthew was far across the rocky landscape where he was headed for Edgar as Sam sprung, leaping down on him with a heavy force. I looked around as anxiety forced my mind to configure a plan. Ravens were surrounding me in silent observance and my breath was stinging in my lungs, my throat dry and hot. I took off at a sprint toward them as Edgar held Matthew at arms length, his other hand cocked back and ready to strike. Sam waited to Edgar’s right, again poising himself to attack at the first chance.

As Edgar let his arm go, I watched in horror as Matthew’s neck twisted in a gruesome and inhuman manner and his body flew across the rocks, shearing into the earth as shards flew into the air and speared back down to the ground with a rumble.

“Edgar!” I yelled, running to him as his eyes met mine, his face both relieved and terrified.

I ran into his arms, my soul bursting like a torch, “Edgar I’m sorry.”

“This is not the time for apologies Elle,” his voice was frantic and his breathing sharp and quick. He suddenly tossed my body to the side as Matthew lunged at us, his teeth bared in anger and his neck clearly broken. Sam jumped and grabbed me away as the dagger went flying by my face in Matthew’s hands.

As Sam saved me from Matthew’s aim, Matthew instead plowed into Edgar’s chest, his face suddenly searing with pain. Edgar fell back hard and heavy, breath escaping from his lips as his eyes met mine.

“No!” My voice was shrill as they both hit the ground, the earth rumbling like a deep earthquake. I tried to steady myself in Sam’s iron grasp as Matthew stood over Edgar, staggering back with blood dripping from the dagger in his hand.

Gasping, I looked at the blood in horror as a malicious sneer snaked across Matthew’s face. I screamed in sudden anger and my hateful eyes burst like sirens as my arms tingled in anguish. My soul was suddenly hot with life, the reason stinging like a knife in my memory, the feelings flooding back to me as my soul returned, and Edgar began dying.

I forced my body out of Sam’s heavy grasp, my breath thick and hot in my mouth. I walked toward Matthew with clenched fists, my stride fast and arrogant. He stepped back with a sudden fear, realizing what had happened to me as my body seemed to grow with strength and a deep look of terror filled his face as my eyes reflected in his. The roots were suddenly more powerful than before, and they wrapped his legs in thick knots of which he could not escape.

“You spiteful devil!” I yelled. My voice was so strong that it caused the trees to shake in fear. Matthew dropped the dagger to the ground with a shudder, his body reeling back as I advanced but his feet were bound. “If you think you’re getting away with this, you’re sick,” my voice was hissing. I glanced toward Edgar, his chest still heaving but the life now void from his beautiful eyes and now alive in mine.

I turned back to Matthew, his face contorted and bleeding.

“You killed my friends, my family!” My voice was cracking in grief and my heart throbbed with pain. “You underestimate the power of love, of happiness.” I grabbed his throat as my power over him surprised me. The roots now engulfed half his body, as though pulling him to Hell. “You had it all wrong Matthew. We had the power then,” my thoughts flashed to the painting, our happiness, or love, and his discontent with it all. “We were the ones with the power, and you,” I paused squeezing his neck harder, his dark emotionless eyes popping out of his freakishly distorted face, “You’re nothing more than a pathetic snake!”

Pulling my arm back, I punched him in the chest and he doubled over, the roots pressing him to the ground in helpless agony. Kneeling down, I grabbed the bloodied dagger from the grass as it lifted it toward me. “You won’t take it from me!” I yelled down at him, my eyes now illuminating the ground where he coiled like a coward. Sam watched me, his gaze looking from Matthew to me.

I raised my hands over my head, both grasping the handle of the dagger as they trembled in fear and anxiety, “You deserve this! I only hope that the gods don’t take pity on your blood stained soul.” And with that, I thrust the dagger down through his chest, stabbing it into his heart and digging it deep into the earth as all the ravens in the field shrieked, taking to the sky in a shroud of black.

His body ceased writhing and his eyes drained of all color, the silver returning as his body began to coil and change. His black feathers pierced through his skin until nothing but a lifeless raven lay dead before me. I heard Sam’s heavy breathing behind me, his cold hands now firmly resting on my shoulder.

I stood there as the thick rain filtered over my body, my breathing fast and angry. I twisted to look back at Edgar as he lay still on the rocky earth.

“Edgar,” my voice was frantic and soft as I ran to his side. “Edgar,” I put my hands to his face, shaking him, beckoning for him to wake, “Edgar no, no don’t.” I panted in eager breaths but his skin was cold under my touch. Sam arrived at his other side, his eyes scanning Edgar’s wound.

As I stared at my dying love his eyes opened but his breathing was dangerously shallow as Sam worked to mend him.

“Edgar, you’re going to be ok,” I gasped.

He tried to raise his arm and bring it to my face, but he couldn’t. The blood gushed from his chest as the warm liquid drained from his veins. A tear rolled down my cheek as his eyes began to change, the blue filtering out to the edges until there was nothing but a faint grey. The glittering had gone and his gaze was now empty and plain. Sam continued to work on him but I knew his efforts were worthless.

I put my head to Edgar’s chest but his heart wouldn’t beat. “Edgar no,” I whispered, “Please, I love you.” I was sobbing with uncontrolled grief, my soul beginning to burn deeper than ever. Sam stopped and grabbed my face, his cold touch like a knife against my chin. His gold eyes searched mine, his face apologizing as he wrapped his wings around us.

The earth around Edgar came to life in a sudden display of light and the roots twined their way around his neck and across his chest. I fell back in horror as Sam’s wings cradled me. Though I tried, I couldn’t stop the roots from engulfing him as they grew into his wounds and pulled him hard against the ground. I turned away in fear as Sam picked me off the damp muddy grass, pulling me away from Edgar as he sank under the surface of the earth. I pushed my face into Sam’s stone cold chest, my warm tears streaming onto his shirt where they turned to icicles when they touched his skin.

“Edgar!” I cried, my hands gripping into Sam’s skin. Sam cradled me in his arms as I watched the ground where Edgar had disappeared begin to grow. Large branches now reached toward the sky and a giant redwood towered over us.

My body trembled as my head became eerily clear. I squeezed my eyes shut as memories seared through me like a floodgate opening to my mind. Sam turned me away from the scene, his wings wrapping tighter around our bodies in his attempt to shield me from the rain and sorrow. I winced in pain as I pulled my knees to my chin, my chest bursting open like the hot sun.

I could feel Sam’s cold breath against my face as he desperately tried to comfort me, to cool my nerves. As the heat became too great to handle, the torture ceased and everything was silent. I breathed hard as I opened my eyes, my sharp sight looking into Sam’s.

In slow steps, he released his grip and my body melted to the ground. My gaze caught sight of a black feather as it fell toward me from the blackened branches above. I shut my eyes in disbelief, tears pouring through my lashes and streaming hot down my cheeks and onto my neck. Opening my eyes again, I raised one trembling hand toward the spiraling black feather, catching it by the quill. I let out one shaky breath as my insides crippled in sadness, my soul blistering with life.

HALF LIFE

My feet melted onto the ground as Sam set me down as his wings cut through the air of the forest. I stood in the shadows under the evergreens, my breathing steady and shallow and my heart heavy. The familiar Meadow had changed since winter and the spring flowers fragrantly blew toward us on the mist of the forest wind, reminding me that life still continued, despite my desire for it all to stop.

A defeated sigh escaped my lips and I took one step into the opening as Sam stood back within the trees, the sun glistened down onto my skin and the grasses bowing in obedient appreciation. Isabelle burst from thin air as she flew from the lonely house, her wings flapping with anxiety in her eager approach.

She let out a shrill cry as she crashed into my arms, her wings flailing as she struggled to right herself. Laughing, I smiled at her and her eyes glinted as though she already knew that I had come home alone. I watched her grasping onto my forearm, clicking to me and twisting my pearly skin. She glanced at Sam with a thankful wink before turning her sharp gaze back to me.

“Hello girl,” I sang, my voice light and re-born.

Sam’s light laugh filtered through the trees of the forest, “She’s happy you’re back.”

Isabelle fluffed her feathers as I walked deeper into the meadow, remembering its beauty, its warmth. As I came to a halt in the middle of the opening, the flowers around me bloomed as I allowed them to welcome me home. Isabelle eyed them with a wary glare before leaping from my arm, spiraling skyward on a gust of wind and meeting Henry as they intertwined. Guilt filled my heart as I saw that Henry held back, mourning the loss of his friend, and father.

Sam walked to my side, his wings now tucked away behind him. As he stood beside me I noticed how his white skin contrasted with the luscious green grass. The circles under his eyes dark but his pupils a warm bronze and his gaze caught mine as he smiled, the corners of his mouth still shaking with certain sadness.

“Well Estella,” his voice was angelic, “You’re home now.” His consoling gaze was hard to look into. I still refused to believe that Edgar was gone.

I sighed, placing my warm hand against his frozen face, “Thank you Sam.”

The long winter had been painful, and my return was a long time coming. After my soul found its place back inside the empty space in my chest, it was hard to find myself, hard to realize where Edgar had gone and what had happened to me. It was as though a life had been gained, but then half was also lost.

After that night, I spent weeks just sitting there, my tears blooming a forest around us and the craters the fight had created gorging into hot springs of life. The redwood where Edgar had died flourished, glowing with unearthly power and strength, the wood almost black.

It was like I’d stored three hundred years of love for him inside my soul, and it suddenly all poured out. He had nurtured that feeling for me, held it within him while I had left him alone. But now it was my turn and I was going to fight.

Sam had stayed with me, his duties as my Guardian angel binding him to me for life. As long as I needed him he would always be there, and in his friendship, I hoped to find happiness and strength. I hoped to move on.

I had been angry at the entire world around me in those days. Everything was thriving when half of me was gone. It angered me that despite my continuing sorrow, the cycle of life still dredged on.

Shuddering, I recalled how it felt to burn Matthew’s dead body, my soul wrought with grief and hatred. Matthew was gone, hopefully forever, but the future was uncertain. Matthew had died from the same weapon, in the same manner as Edgar but when they had left this world, they left it differently, as though telling me there was still hope.

Before I left the hillsides of London, I carved two ravens into the redwood that had bloomed over Edgar’s body, hoping that one day, he could see that, and remember. Though he was gone, I refused to believe forever. He was the only thing that mattered to me now, and I would devote my life to finding an answer, if not an ending.

As I now stood in the meadow of the Cascades, watching Henry and Isabelle celebrate my return, I couldn’t help but feel Edgar here, his essence, and even his scent. His intoxicating life lingered as a gloomy reminder. I knelt to the ground, allowing my legs to rest in the tall grass.

Reaching into my belt hook, I retrieved the dagger and held it as the gold gleamed in the sun. A tear fell from my face and I stabbed it into the soft earth with a promise to avenge my love. My soul was aching with the absence of its warmth, a feeling I used to long to feel, but no longer could. If there was still a way to pass this blame, I would, killing everyone that set it up, and making sure that in the end, this could never happen to another soul.

Sam put one cold hand on my back as he looked skyward, praying for Edgar toward the heavens. He did not know how to feel love or pain so in the years since his death he had felt nothing, much like I had before. Sam could read my thoughts, and so he knew how to comfort me, but it did little to calm my nerves.

Being back allowed a flood of memories to return. I thought about that day when I was taken, cursed myself for being stubborn and careless. There were so many things that had happened and I was determined to find out what it all meant, determined to find the white cat. I needed to figure out exactly why it had lured me out of the house and into imminent doom.

I scanned the trees with a new sense of purpose. My plan was to wait it out, let the white cat come back to me. The cat knew something, and it was my only lead into my new world. Being stubborn has its advantages. I refuse to wait three hundred years for an answer, no matter what it takes.

My body was now reunited with my soul, complete in essence, but not in spirit. My new senses were going to help me unravel this next chapter of my life. I would fight an eternity for Edgar if I had to, and if eternity comes, then I’ll leave this life forever.

Sam knelt down next to me and I laid back into his chest, my mind suddenly eager for sleep, eager to see Edgar’s face in my endless dreams. I shut my eyes to the sun as Sam began to hum in my ear, the same hum my foster mother had lulled me with all my life. He placed his cold hand on my forehead and sleep rushed over me, and I instantly remembered.

Just as I had seen in my dream my first days at the college, I was standing in the same meadow. The air was misty and warm, like summer. I felt safe and secure as I peeked down at my body, finding my soul searing with love and my hands even more brilliant then ever before.

My eyes shot up as Edgar appeared from the shadows of the woods, like a ghost within the misty field of my dream. As I noticed him, I smiled, a feeling I’d missed bursting in my soul. The sudden burn made me gasp for air as I struggled to recognize the warm sensation. As he approached, I brought one hand to my face, feeling a tear roll over my soft skin as I realized he was home, and the feeling was love.

Stay Ahead of the game, log onto www.featherbookseries.com or visit the blog at www.featherbookseries.wordpress.com for info, and changing release dates.

Book Two, Guardian, takes us deeper into the myth and deeper into the world of Estella, the magical creature destined to save this world. Though she finds her love is gone, she is not alone and as the events unfold she finds hope and the undeniable desire to rise above her fears, and face her demons…

Join her as she travels to the ends of the earth, finding old friends and new companions in the most unlikely of places. See how Feather transforms into a story of its own in Guardian, into the myth that engulfs us and proves we are never alone…

BOOK TWO: GUARDIAN (Sample)

BABY STEPS

The cold granite felt like steel against my head as I lay on the top landing of the stairs, pondering my next move. I took a few calm measured breaths, allowing my eyes to stay closed as my heart raced. I hadn’t ever gotten this far, not until now. The closest I had gotten to my room was yesterday when I finally laid one foot on the bottom step, and now here I was, at the top, my body trembling with fear and sorrow like a nervous idiot.

Slowly, I began to draw my eyelids open like a curtain at a play. I felt the granite under my sweaty palms, my arms sprawled out at my sides and my legs cascading down the stairs. I rolled my head to the right, looking at the doors to my room with sad recollection.

It had been nearly two months since I’d been back at the house, but I still couldn’t bring myself to go back to my room, to see what I feared would be a scene of sadness and loss. I had taken to sleeping on the couch in the sitting room, despite Sam’s attempts to encourage me to face the facts, and move on. He didn’t understand how this felt, he didn’t know what sorrow was anymore, or fear. He was dead, inside and out.

I drew in a heavy breath and held it as it stung my lungs. Carefully, I rolled my head to the other side, my eyes falling on the doors to Edgar’s mysterious room, a place I couldn’t even fathom visiting. I had never seen it, at least not in my current recollection, but it still seemed like an imaginary place, a place that had never really existed.

Although I had gotten my soul back when Edgar’s heart had ceased to beat, it hadn’t given me all of my memory. There were certain things that slowly trickled back, like my expert knowledge for chess, and of course my heightened sense of sight, and sound, but not my memory.

I exhaled as I drew my head back to the center, staring at the gold leaf ceiling. I wrenched my tired body up as I leaned my chin into my hands and placed my feet on the top step. Dragging my fingers across my tired eyes, I heard the swift cutting of wings echoing through the large entry foyer.

My hands dropped to my lap as I looked up, seeing Henry and Isabelle circle the chandelier and sharply dodge toward me. They landed on the top landing as their talons slipped, grinding across the granite like fingernails on a chalkboard. I winced at the shrill noise as they clicked their way back toward me with haste, each rubbing their head against my arm like cats often would.

In the passing months, Henry had grafted himself to me as though he were solely mine. I knew he missed Edgar. There was a glimmer in his eye that was unmistakable and sad. He looked to me as his foster mother now, and that was definitely something I could relate with.

I sighed with a heavy heart as I scratched them both on the head. This trip to my room was always destined to be a failed attempt, but I had at least gotten to the top landing. I looked up as my eyes caught the glimmer of something standing in the center of the entry. Sam was smiling at me as he stood there in angelic silence. It was frustrating that even I could not hear him moving in his soundless existence.

“Wow, looks like you got pretty far today,” he half laughed as he said it.

I wiped the sorrow from my face before he could notice, reverting back to confidence as I prepared myself to take on his sarcastic barrage of emotionless banter. “Thanks Sam,” my voice was sharp, but mused.

“So why don’t you just do it, pour salt on the wound so you can move on? I know you’re stronger than this, besides, you keep talking in your sleep about how uncomfortable the couch is. And frankly, you’re boring,” he smirked.

I pushed my brows together, “Do you watch me sleep? Come on Sam, that’s creepy.”

He laughed, “Of course I watch you, it’s my job. And I like being creepy, goes well with my superhero image.”

I pursed my lips and shook my head. It had taken some practice, but I was learning to hide my thoughts away from him. I had found a special room in my head that even he couldn’t penetrate and I was sure it was beginning to frustrate him. He was used to the minds of weak humans, so revealing. But I was more than human now, I was immortal, and my powers could somewhat rival his, though I still wasn’t as strong. At least my intelligence and sharp intuition kept him challenged.

I narrowed my eyes at him, “No, I think you’re trying to read my thoughts. You can’t stand not knowing my every whim, can you?”

He fidgeted with his hands as he held them behind his back. His wings were entirely withdrawn into his shoulder blades to the point that you would never be able to discern him from a human, other than the fact that his skin was cold as ice and his eyes were heavily shadowed in a light mauve.

He finally smirked, snorting in a delicate manner which suggested he was guilty, “Maybe, I just like to hear your thoughts, makes me feel alive again. Human thoughts are so boring, what to eat, what to watch on TV, what should I do to poison the earth today. You on the other hand, you’re thoughts are fascinating.” His eyes suddenly lit up with joy.

I narrowed my eyes even further, exhaling sharply. I pushed myself off the cold floor and stood as Henry and Isabelle trotted toward my bedroom doors. They stopped and looked at me as though urging me to follow, but I shook my head in defiance, “Not today guys, tomorrow, I promise.”

They both looked at me as though telling me I’d promised them that a dozen times already.

Sam snorted, “Yeah, that’s exactly what their thinking.”

I turned my gaze to Sam. I had allowed him that thought. “You can’t hear what they’re thinking, so stop pretending you can. You can’t pull that one on me.”

Sam shrugged, “True, but I can feel their emotion, and right now they seem pretty disappointed.”

“Whatever,” I replied tartly. “You’re just upset that I can beat you at your own game, you’re such a poor loser Sam.”

He chuckled, “Whatever.”

I sighed as I darted across the top landing of the stairs to the shelf and grasped the Edgar Allan Poe notebook as though I were walking on hot coals. The thick old leather felt rough between my fingers as I bounded down the stairs as though being chased by the ghosts of my past. I did not want to run away from reality, I just wasn’t ready to face it.

Sam laughed again, “That was some serious Indiana Jones action there, very impressive, but you forgot to replace the idol with a bag of sand. Better watch out, some evil gremlin will likely attack,” he pointed to the stairs behind with sarcastic humor.

I felt a sudden urge to punch him as my bare feet landed like an expert on the foyer floor, and in fact, that was just what I did. As my fist landed hard against his cold bicep however, I felt my fingers crunch and a sharp pain pulse through my arm as though I’d punched a marble statue.

Sam looked at me with sly eyes, my punch no more than a brush of a feather to him, “Whoa there missy, better be careful.”

I grasped my hand as it throbbed and stung. Glowering at him, I rubbed my broken knuckles in rueful silence as I molded them back to normal in slow gentle strokes.

“I don’t get why you choose to inflict pain on yourself like that, time after time. I get the point, you resent me, but get over it, I’m not leaving unless Edgar releases my bond to you.” He paused as he smirked, my heart crumbling like rocks as he said his name. “And I don’t see that happening anytime soon,” he added, an extra twist of the dagger now stabbing at my guilty sad soul.

I growled at him, “Shut up Sam.” My hand was feeling much better and I twisted on one foot and stormed toward the kitchen, a sharp angry beat in my step.

He followed like a soundless ghost, “Oh come on Elly. I didn’t mean it. I’m not used to being polite.”

“Well then get used to it. You’re acting like a monster, not an angel.” His comment still stung in my heart. Any time he uttered Edgar’s name it hurt as though the dagger had stabbed me instead.

“I’m trying, but it’s hard to remember what feeling emotion is like. I still don’t understand why you chose to get your soul back. All it does is complicate things.”

I plopped down on a stool and thumped my elbows down onto the copper island, “Well try harder,” I spat.

“Ok, let me make you some lunch. What would you like?” the desperation in his voice was working, and I began to feel guilty, he simply didn’t know any better.

“How about some sympathy with a side of comfort?” I smarted.

“What’s in that?”

He sounded genuinely confused and I rolled my eyes at him. You would think he could at least smell his own sarcasm being thrown back at him.

“Just never mind.” I sighed, “Go in the upper cabinet, there should be a box of macaroni and cheese, just follow the directions.”

He eyed me with an annoying smirk, I know he knew what I had been talking about, but he was a good actor. I only wished I had been so sarcastic and talented with conversation when I didn’t have a soul, maybe I wouldn’t be as miserable as I was now because I would have never come here, never met Edgar, and I could have lived on  in my oblivious depressed darkness.

The box made a dull jingling sound as he tilted it down out of he cabinet and the noodles shifted inside. I thought about my eggs and syrup and wished Edgar was here to make it for me, only he knew how. I was never much of a cook, and my appetite hadn’t really been great anyways. I was still sick over the loss, and I wondered if the sinking feeling of sadness would ever leave. Often they say time heals all wounds, but so far, I felt as though my wounds were still gaping, gushing sadness and blood at every painstaking moment.

Sam eyed me with a knowing glare. I had allowed him the torture of that thought, letting him know how much I resented his attempts at filling the gap Edgar had left. Failed attempts, like eating sugar when you’re starving. There was an abrupt and odd look on Sam’s face and I analyzed it with discretion. I had never seen a look like that before, and I almost compared it with real remorse.

I was proud of myself. Fixing Sam had become a sort of pet project, no man should forget what he died for, as he had seemed to. I knew who he used to be, based on Edgar’s story of how he gave his life for a young girl he barely knew. I had never confronted him though. I was afraid of the outcome, afraid he wouldn’t remember why he was here and become frustrated. As hard as it was to admit, I needed him, otherwise by now, I would have already gone crazy.

Sam was watching me with nervous eyes over the top of the box as he read each direction with diligence, extracting each ingredient and measuring it as though in biology class. Sam didn’t eat either, he didn’t need to. He told me he couldn’t taste it anyways, all earthly desires were stripped from him because of his duty to serve. Nothing must sidetrack him from that. But in my stubbornness, I was determined to change that idea.

He had succeeded in making a pot of water boil as it sat very close to the flames of the fire in the kitchen hearth. I was amazed, even I had never succeeded in that and my mac and cheese was rather crunchy due to that fact. He looked inwardly content with himself, as though he’d accomplished something great.

Maybe Edgar had been right when he said it was easier to be the professor, than pretend to be the student. A professor lead, while a student followed, and it was now apparent, more than ever, that there was no one left for me to follow. I had to face the fact that stepping up to my responsibilities was evident.

I had thought about the college, wondered if Scott and Sarah were still there. It was mid summer, so it was undeniable that they were there. It hadn’t seemed right though, to go back. What was the point beyond re-hashing hurtful memories, and the doldrums of waiting? And for what? Death? Still, it hadn’t escaped my thoughts and I was formulating a time to go, just not yet, not now.

Sam struggled with the packet of fake cheese sauce and I giggled in secrecy. He gave me an embarrassed and reproachful glare before tearing the pack nearly to pieces. He only managed to get about half of its contents into the pot before the rest spilled to the floor.

“Don’t worry about it Sam,” I reassured him, surprised to find him worried and angry with himself. Maybe he really was becoming human again.

His face changed from embarrassment to confidence, “Pfft, what are you talking about? I’m not embarrassed.”

I could see the attempt to lie crossing his face and I chuckled once, looking back down at the copper counter and admiring my reflection. My eyes gleamed like small orbs of luminescent opals, reflecting in sharp rays off the copper and back at me.

“Sam?”

He looked back up at me from the fire, his face pulled together in frustration over the result of his cooking, “Hmm?”

“What happened that day, before I was taken? What did you see?” I had never been able to ask this question, everything else had come first, mostly the fact that Edgar was gone.

“I saw you being stupid,” he replied in a blunt and cold manner. His amber eyes scanned my face, trying to pry into my thoughts.

“Yeah but seriously, you saw the cat, right?” my eyes scanned his and I allowed him to see my thoughts, my blurred memory of the white cat, and then the vicious attack of the ravens.

His face seemed to be torn, as though I’d revealed something painful to him. I realized it was a look of failure, failure because he had lost me that day in the woods, and had let Edgar die. It was silly that he blamed himself for that, it wasn’t even his fault, but I could see his dutiful point. He had failed at the only thing he did well, being a guardian.

“Yeah, I saw the nasty feline,” he spat.

“What was it? Why was it here? Could you feel what it was thinking?” I knew how he could feel Henry and Isabelle, and I’d hoped he had felt the cat too. He had to have noticed something.

“I felt a lot of things Elly. There were the ravens first and foremost, but I suppose I did feel a strange muted undertone of something, but it was strange, as though a mixed signal. I was certain of the fact that it wasn’t normal, if you ask me.” He shrugged as he pulled the soupy noodles away from the fire. I watched as he contemplated over a plate or bowl, finally settling for a bowl after the sour expression on his face recognized the contents of the pot to be closer to soup than noodles.

“But do you think it was part of Matthew’s plan, another pawn in his game to lure me away from Edgar and into his lethal grasp?” My voice was laced with curiosity.

“No, I don’t get that feeling, it wasn’t evil. That would be the first thing I would have noticed. To me the world is black and white, evil and safe.” He pushed a plate toward me, his eyes looking at mine with observant curiosity and I could sense he felt nervous that I would judge his cooking skills.

“Thanks Sam. Looks great,” I smiled.

He narrowed his eyes at me and I could feel him navigating every corner of my brain, coming up empty handed. He grunted, his chest rising as he walked into the sitting room behind me where he threw his body onto the chase lounge.

I picked at the soggy mass before me, urging my stomach to find it somewhat appetizing. I could hear Sam breathing behind me, though I wasn’t sure why he did. Being that he was dead he really didn’t need to, but I suppose for the matter of fitting in, it made sense, old habits die hard.

I had circled my life around three rooms. When I first came back it was hard for me to get past the front hall. But now, I felt comfortable being in the kitchen, sitting room, and entry. Healing was a slow process, and my burden to bear. I never understood how humans managed to move on, often so soon after their loss, but I guess love comes down to a choice: You can either get over it and try to be happy, or roll over a rot, all alone. And let’s face it, no one likes being alone.

Sam came and went as he pleased, but it didn’t seem as though he’d gone into any other rooms either. I suppose it was out of respect for me, if he even possessed a shred of any. He was so rude, that it wouldn’t surprise me if he’d been to every room in the house. But as long as he didn’t move anything, I didn’t really care anymore.

I worked down another soggy and watered down load of mac and cheese before giving up. I had a new goal in mind, so after throwing my plate in the sink and grabbing the Edgar Allan notebook from where I’d set it on the counter, I tried my best to slink out of the room unnoticed. There was one place in this house I was certain would be easier to visit than my room, and I now set out on a mission to go there.

My hand grazed along the rough velvety wall paper as I traced toward the library. There was really no reason why I hadn’t yet gone there, and I wasn’t surprised to find it exactly the same. I gripped my hand around the frame, feeling the familiar spot where I had dug my nails into the wood a hundred times. The memory of those last stressful days with Edgar flashed before me, the anxiety, and the waiting.

I took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Sam had not followed me, but I was not so naïve to deny he knew what I was doing. Even though I had impeccable sight and hearing, he had even better. I had noticed how he could watch the air before him, nothing there, but to him, there was always something, a particle of dust, a wisp of silk thread. He always knew, but that didn’t mean he always told me about it.

I ran my hand along the thick leather of the couch, finding it cold, rough, and almost uninviting. The notebook of poems in my hand suddenly felt like a ton of bricks as I set it on the seat of the couch. I looked toward the greenhouse Edgar had built for me, and a lump ached in my throat. That room was still too hard to visit, and even seeing it now was like twisting the dagger in my throbbing heart.

As I diverted my gaze from the tables of dead plants, my sight caught the silky mahogany wood of the ladder to the second tier of the library. My breathing quickened, my body now terrified of what I knew was up there. I had tricked myself into coming here, tricked myself into my insatiable obsession with that tiny room, and the painting.

I took a deep breath, placing one hand on the middle rung. Squeezing my eyes shut, the painful memory of Edgar’s hands around my waist flooded my mind. My sides began to tingle with the residual touch as the breath was ripped from my lungs. I cursed myself for whimpering like a fool as I placed my other hand on the rail. I worked to calm the burning pain in my throat, huffing through my nose in heavy breaths instead. I needed this, it had been long enough. My time for waiting was over and it was time for a new dawn. Opening my eyes, I took a deep breath and moved.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Abra Ebner was born in Seattle where she still lives. Growing up in the city, as well as the mountains of the North Cascades at her family cabin, has granted her the experience of a life full of creativity and magic. Her craving for adventure has taken her into the many reaches of the forest, instilling in her the beauty of a world not our own, in a place where anything can happen and will. Her studies in Australia, as well as travels to England, Scotland, Germany, and Switzerland, have also played as a colorful backdrop to her characters, experiences, and knowledge. Come visit the untouched world of Feather, a place where eternal love, magic, beauty, and adventure are just the beginning.

Abra@FeatherBookSeries.com