Raven Blackwood's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Raven Blackwood wanted into the library buried under the cathedral, and tonight it had tried to kill her. She crouched behind a toppled gravestone and pressed her back to the cold rock. Blood ran down her torn sleeve. She had come for the sealed door in the crypt, the one that led to the forbidden books. She never reached it. Something had cut her off halfway across the grounds. She heard it breathe. Wet, ragged, close. She risked a look. The thing stood between her and the gate. It was taller than a man, thin as a ladder of bones, its ribs showing through cracked skin. Dark fur hung in clumps off its arms. Its teeth were long and red, dripping. Its hollow eyes swept the dark, searching for her. Raven's legs shook. Her glasses had fogged. She wiped them on her black skirt and tried to think. She was short and slow, and she knew she could not outrun it. If it found her in the open, she would die here. The creature took a step toward her hiding place. Gravel crunched under its claws. Raven's hand found a stone at her feet. She hurled it hard across the yard. It cracked against a far wall. The thing spun and bolted toward the sound, bones clattering. She ran. She did not look back. She tore through the broken gate and did not stop until the cathedral was far behind. By the time she reached the split willow at the edge of the woods, her lungs burned and her legs gave out. She slid down against the ivy on its ruined trunk and gasped. "You went back," a voice said. "After I told you not to." Raven's head snapped up. An old woman stood among the hanging branches. Her robes were black and frayed. Matted hair hid half her face. Her eyes were pale and empty, and still they seemed to find Raven. Her fingers were too long, tipped with yellow nails. This was the witch from the village, the only soul who had ever walked those grounds at night and come back breathing. "You know what it is," Raven said. "You survived it." The witch's mouth twisted. "I did not survive it. I made a bargain with it." She stepped closer, nails clicking together. "It guards the door you want. It will keep hunting you until you give it what it was promised." "Promised what?" "A life." The witch tilted her head. "I gave it one. That is why I still breathe. If you want the library, girl, you will have to feed it too." Raven stared at her own bloody sleeve. She was alive. The thing had let her slip away. But now she understood why. It was not just hunting her. It was waiting to be paid. And the only door to her library stood behind its teeth.