“Oh yes,” he said. “Not to add to the pressure, but as I’m sure you’ve already noticed, your Mortal Spirit is getting bigger. Eventually, he’ll get too big for you to control, and unless you become a Merlin first and use that to keep the upper hand, you’ll end up serving him.”
Marci paled. “Really?”
The raven nodded. “I’ve seen it happen many times, and it’s never pretty. Mortal Spirits are the embodiments of base human nature, and humans aren’t known for being kind.”
That was a grim thought. Even worse, it matched what she already knew of Ghost, which meant it was probably true. Unfortunately, it was a problem Marci had no idea how to solve. She didn’t even know where to start looking. She was about to ask Raven if he had any general tips he could offer when the whole plane bucked.
Marci grabbed her seat, stomach lurching. Even Raven was scrambling, flapping wildly to stay upright as the plane turned and tossed. Outside the windows, what had been a clear autumn evening was now pitch black, which made no sense. Even flying east through the time zones, it was still too early for this kind of night. A second later, a flash of light proved she was right. The darkness wasn’t night at all. It was thunderheads. A massive, terrifyingly black wall of them surrounding the plane on all sides, and at the center of it all was the shadow of something enormous.
Marci could only see it when the lightning flashed, so she couldn’t be sure, but it looked like a giant bird of prey. A hawk, maybe, or a falcon. Size-wise, though, it looked more like a blue whale had gotten lost in the sky, and it was coming right for them.
“Never rains but it pours,” Sir Myron said with a sigh, glaring out the window at the rapidly approaching shadow. “Emily?”
“Already on it,” the general said, standing up and taking off her coat. She took off her crisp white shirt next, leaving only her undershirt tank top, but that wasn’t what made Marci stare. She was gawking at the fact that the general’s entire torso—arms, shoulders, chest, everything she could see—was made out of the same spell-etched metal as her deadly hand. The only parts of her that actually looked human were her head and neck, which were still covered in normal, brown skin, though that might have been clever plastic work. It was impossible for Marci to tell for sure with the lightning flashing every few seconds, but the general didn’t seem in a hurry as she folded her clothes neatly, set them down in her chair, and walked to the back of the plane.
“Raven,” she said when she reached Marci’s seat. “Stay out of sight.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he croaked. “But do give the Thunderbird my regards.”
She nodded and walked through the door at the back. The one Marci had presumed went to the lavatories. “Um, where is she going?”
“Out the back,” Raven said, hopping over to the window. “This is Emily’s personal jet. It’s got a depressurized compartment in the back for just this sort of occasion. Without it, you’d all be sucked out when she opened the door.”
Marci’s eyes went wide. “Sucked out? You mean she’s goingoutsidethe plane? Intothat?”
She pointed at the near-constant lightning, and Raven nodded. “Of course,” he said. “How else do you talk to the Thunderbird? I certainly can’t do it. We’ve just entered Algonquin’s airspace. I’m even more forbidden here than the dragons.”
There was so much crammed into that statement, Marci didn’t know where to begin, so she went for the biggest. “That’s the Thunderbird?” she said, staring through the plane’s round window at the huge, predatory mass of clouds and lightning that was now moving toward the back of their jet.
“Surely you didn’t think this storm was natural,” Raven said with a chuckle. “Yes, that’s him. He’s the spirit of the thunderstorms that form over the Great Planes. Or at least he used to be. These days he’s more like Algonquin’s doorman. Since she shot down the Three Sisters, she’s had him patrolling her skies for unauthorized entrants.”
Marci swallowed nervously. “Like us?”
“No, actually. Myron called ahead and got us clearance before we’d even left New Mexico. Algonquin just enjoys harassing Emily because Emily is mine.”
She stared at him, confused. “General Jackson is your human? I thought she said she wasn’t a mage.”
“She isn’t,” Raven said. “And I didn’t say she was my human. What do I look like, a dragon?” He shuddered. “I said she was mine because I’m the one who built her.”
Marci nearly choked. “Built?”
Raven chuckled. “Come on, you’re supposed to be clever. You didn’t think she was born made of metal, did you?”
“No,” Marci said. “But—”
“She’s a construct,” Raven went on proudly. “Though I suppose the proper term these days would becyborg. She’s a charming mix of enchanted metals and modern machinery I wrapped around a human soul.”
“Youwrapped?” she repeated, stunned. When she’d first touched the general’s hand, Marci had noticed she’d felt like Julius’s enchanted sword, but she’d never imagined that could actually be true. “How did you do that?”
“Ravens have always been clever with tools,” he said proudly. “But I can’t take all the credit. The structure and ideas were mine, but I’m a spirit. I can’t move magic, so I had to rely on human helpers. My Emily is the product of many hands, including Myron’s in recent years. He’s the one who figured out how to fit that lovely cannon in her palm.”
“But how does it work?” Marci asked, fascinated. “If she’s not a mage, where does she get the energy to fire? Or to move?”
“From me,” Raven said, puffing out his chest. “I keep telling you, she’smine. Every part of her is tied to me, which is why Algonquin can’t stand her. But what the Lady of the Lakes doesn’t realize is that her connection to me is the least part of why she should fear Emily. She assumes I’m the puppet master, but the old water sprite never could grasp that I’m not interested in control. I didn’t choose Emily because I wanted a weapon. I picked her because she asked me, and I was curious to see just how far she would go.”
“You made a human into a construct because you were curious?” Marci said, disbelieving.
“It’s why I do most things,” Raven said with a shrug. “I know forever is a hard concept for humans to grasp, but it’s my reality. If I ever run out of things to be curious about, my life will become too dull to bear, and then I’ll be inrealtrouble.”
