Chapter 2
Everly
Iwoke up feeling like I couldn’t breathe. Something heavy was pushing me into my mattress. I blinked my eyes open—then quickly squeezed them shut again as an explosion of colors surrounded me.
What?
I opened them again, slowly this time. I was... under something. My blanket? I went to throw it off so I could breathe, then froze.
I didn't have hands.
For that matter, I didn’t have feet, either.
I cried out in surprise, but the sound of my own voice made me startle and I cried out again, certain some kind of animal was in the room with me. And then I looked down at my feet again.
I... might be the animal.
Mirror. I needed the stand-up mirror in my bedroom.
I squirmed and wriggled until I fell off the side of the bed, my heart racing, my thoughts spiraling. A terrified, strangled sound left my throat as I stumbled on awkward feet (claws?) toward the mirror.
I sucked in a shaky breath as I got the first good look at myself.
I was a black bird. My arms were no longer. Now, they were wings. And my feet were indeed claws with very sharp talons at the end. I was... the size of a small cat? I didn’t know, but I was pretty big for a bird.
In college, I'd taken a biology class that covered the differences between crows and ravens. I think... I think I was a raven.
I blinked at my reflection, trying to see myself in the bird standing there—and something weird happened. A thin membrane slid across my eyes sideways, then retracted.
My bird legs became roughly the consistency of jello and I fell... ahem, gracefully sat down.
Okay, I was officially freaking out now.
For the first time in my life, I wanted to yell at my Gran.
And I’d never yelled at my Gran. But, and I say this with love, I really feel like she should have given me more than 24 hours notice that I might end up a bird.
But, seeing as she wasn't here to yell at, and, you know, I couldn't speak, yelling wouldn’t be possible.
Ohhh, Gran, you are so lucky you’re not here right now.
My little bird heart pounded like crazy, and I was starting to feel light-headed.
Were birds supposed to get lightheaded? Suppose I managed to fly, and then got lightheaded and crashed?
Ugh, Everly. Not now. I quickly shook the catastrophizing thoughts away.
I needed a plan. Somewhere to go. Someone to help me.
And, side note, how was I supposed to ask for help like this?
Okay, okay. Gran said in the note that there was a hidden paranormal world. She mentioned a warlock in her letter—the one who'd given my matriarchal line its magic. So maybe... I could find a warlock?
But again, how would I even explain myself and what I needed? I sat thinking about it a moment, feeling weirded out as I stared at my raven eyes in the mirror.
The letter!
I'd had the odd impression to stash it in a ziplock bag yesterday! That should protect it if I had to fly around with it in my beak.
Okay, one problem solved. I could communicate with the letter. But how did I find a warlock?
Better yet—I looked around my apartment—how would I even get outside? I didn’t have any hands, and I was seriously vertically challenged at the moment.
From my hunched, trying not to fall over position, the world around me looked.
.. strange. The colors were surreal. I was picking up on dimensions of color that my human eyes couldn’t see.
I faintly remembered something about ravens seeing in the ultraviolet spectrum, and I found this true as I looked at the items in my bedroom.
Most of the items I knew were painted a single color, and yet, to my raven vision, they looked like a crazy rainbow.
I noted, as I moved my head around on a swivel, that I had amazing depth perception—but also a surprising amount of side vision.
So weird.
I scanned my apartment again, focusing on a method to get me out of here without hands.
Then I spotted the chimney. I could use the chimney flue! It was almost always open—Alaska was basically a very pretty popsicle—and I'd just had it cleaned.
I took one last glance at my raven reflection, then attempted to flap to my kitchen table.
This did not go over well. It turned out that flapping properly required rhythm, which I sadly lacked.
After using my beak, and scarring my kitchen chairs, then hopping around some, I was able to get to the letter on the table.
I tried to grab it like I would as a human—with my hand—then, when my feathers passed right over it, I overbalanced and fell on my face.
Ugh. This body was going to take some getting used to. I lay there for a moment resting and closed my eyes. All the new things were hurting my brain. Seeing differently, learning how to move differently, remembering I didn’t have hands anymore... I sighed. Okay. I could do this.
I scrambled up again and, much slower this time, took the bag in my beak.
Success!
Great. Now I just had to get up the chimney.
Ha ha ha. Oh man, this was going to hurt.
I tried several painful approaches before settling on standing atop the fake logs in the fireplace and flapping my wings hard. I was uncoordinated, and I bounced off the soot-stained walls of the chimney flue, but it was working!
When I reached the top, I paused, catching my breath. Man, that was hard work!
As I gazed into the distance , the sun was barely rising in the far east. The world was still and quiet, and even though snow covered the ground, I wasn't cold.
My thick feet—talons? claws?—handled the ice surprisingly well.
And my feathers insulated me so well that I was barely able to feel the cold breeze as it blew flurries around my apartment complex in pretty patterns.
I guess ravens had a natural cold protection. Handy.
I turned, scanning the horizon. My vision was incredible. I could see much further and so much clearer than I could with my human eyes, and I had 20/20 vision!
I felt something... A call from the mountains, but it was a call I could feel rather than hear. I closed my eyes to zero in on the feeling. It felt... warm, and bright... and powerful.
For a moment, I was afraid. This was clearly supernatural. If I, a supernatural being now, was feeling this call, then I could bet my Gran’s rare coin collection that the call was coming from another supernatural.
Did I dare go toward it?
What if it was someone like a witch or wizard, and they were trying to draw in other supernaturals and suck the life energy from them?
I didn’t know! I wasn’t a supernatural. It was possible, at the very least.
But...
The call felt... familiar? Like, not familiar in the oh, I know you kind of way. But familiar in the I should know you kind of way. And, it felt... lonely.
And powerful.
Right now, I could very much use a powerful supernatural to help me understand what the heck was happening, and how soon I could make it go away.
So... I was going toward the powerful call from the mountains.
I sucked my head into my neck.
Okay. Yep, I was doing this.
The mountain range I felt it coming from was a good distance away.
I didn't know exactly how far ravens could fly in a day, but I thought it might be something like a hundred miles. Sadly, those mountains looked farther than a hundred miles, so that meant I’d be flying for several days, and I would have to find shelter for the night before I began again.
I took a moment to absorb the quiet of my surroundings, thinking about the supernatural world Gran had mentioned in her letter.
I didn’t know how it was possible they’d kept such a world a secret. I mean, I’d never met anyone who’d even seemed the tiniest bit magical.
I frowned in thought. Well, maybe Craig Jessup in the fourth grade. He’d clearly been an ogre.
I choked on my raven laughter, then sighed. Okay, time to focus.
I couldn’t remember for sure how a raven flew.
I thought they soared a lot, like hawks and eagles.
And I knew hawks and eagles could ride air thermals.
If I could find an air thermal, my hope was that I would be able to rise high and coast to conserve my energy.
And I would need to conserve energy. Even in my human body, I hadn't exactly been the poster child for good health.
My heart rate, which had been slow and steady, started thumping harder as I contemplated actually jumping off my roof. Was I seriously about to launch myself off a rooftop and hope instinct kicked in before gravity won? Was that my entire plan?
I groaned.
Great plan, Everly.
It sounds like a good way to get yourself killed.
Yet, did I have any other choice?
I mean, yes, I could live comfortably in my little apartment... for a few days. I’d maybe be able to turn on a tap to get water, and might be able to open a box of crackers or something so I didn’t starve. But that would only last for so long before it became untenable.
So, it was either throw myself off this roof, or starve and forever remain a raven.
I scoffed. The choice was obvious. I had to do this.
Without thinking about it too deeply, and without giving myself any more time to panic spiral, I took a deep breath, ran a few fumbling steps—and jumped.
And promptly screamed.
The wind tore past me, ruffling my feathers. I flung out my wings and flapped like my life depended on it—which it did, and hoping like crazy that I could coordinate my wing beats enough to actually get lift.
Somehow, miraculously, my wings caught the air currents. I rose higher than the townhouse as I pumped them hard, and then higher still.
I’d only been doing this flying thing for a few seconds, and I was already exhausted. How did birds to this? I blinked, catching a shimmer that looked like heat haze rising from hot pavement. But, instead of it being on the ground, this one was in the air.
A thermal!
I angled toward it, caught it, and felt it lift me.