Raven Meadows's Arc

Chapter 9 of 25

The rain thinned by morning, but the reeds were not empty. Raven stood at the edge of the marsh with a mug going cold in her hands. A new shape crouched low in the wet grass. Small. Shaking. Not one of the strangers who'd worked the roofs last night. This one hadn't come to the fire. This one hid. Raven set the mug down and walked out. The shape flinched hard when she got close. It was a thin creature, mud to the knees, eyes wide and white-rimmed. It watched the treeline behind Raven more than it watched her. "You can come in," Raven said. "There's fire." The creature shook its head fast. It pointed back at the reeds, at the dark line of trees, and made a small broken sound. Something was out there. Something had followed it here. Raven's gut went cold. She'd taken in a wolf pup once and nearly brought a pack down on them all. She couldn't tell if this shaking thing was running from danger or leading it straight to her door. She squinted at the trees. She saw nothing but wet branches. Willow came out from the huts, wings folded tight so they wouldn't catch the mud. She stopped a few feet off and studied the newcomer the way she studied everything now, like she couldn't help it. "Willow," Raven said. "Is it lying?" Willow's jaw tightened. She hated this part. Raven knew that. But Raven had a settlement of sleeping people behind her, and she needed to know. "It ran three days," Willow said. "It didn't eat. Somebody burned its home." She paused. Her eyes moved to the reeds, past the shaking creature, to the black gap in the trees. "That's not the danger." "Then what is?" "The thing that burned it is behind that tree line. It's close." Willow said it plain, no softening. "The creature came here to warn you. Not to hide." Raven looked again. Now she caught it. A wide shape, still, watching, half-hidden in shadow. Not a scout for any wolf pack. Something bigger. Her body moved before her head caught up. She grabbed the newcomer's thin arm and hauled it toward the huts. "Move. Now." She shoved it through a rounded wooden door into the grass-roofed cluster, the one dug deep into the hillside, and pulled the door shut behind them both. Willow was already ringing the fire, calling the others up. Torryn's head lifted at his hut door, scales bright in the gray light. Finn stood in the cottage doorway, small and stiff, nose working the air. Raven pressed her back to the round door and breathed hard. She'd made her choice. She'd taken the newcomer in. But she hadn't turned a stray from a threat this time. She'd pulled the whole haven into the path of whatever hunted it. The line at the reeds was longer. And now something out there wanted in too.