“Ah! Miss Helena, is everything okay with Miss Adi?”
The raven makes a deep clicking squaw that interrupts my reply. Torin quickly cuts his eyes to the beast that’s now perched on the low branch of the birch tree, its ample weight causing the branch to sag.
I clear my throat, trying to rein in the scolding I want to give the creature. “Hi, no, Gran’s fine, but I seem to have a visitor trapped in my chimney. And our friend up there,” I gesture to the bird, “wishes to inform you that I didn’t run fast enough down here to ask for you to join my bird-saving crusade.”
Torin chuckles a bit, his shoulders sagging in relief, but his eyes flick to the raven again. “Ye wouldn’t believe how often that happens. Let me get my net, and I’ll be happy to get that squared away for ye, Miss Helena.”
A slight noise of disapproval slips from my lips before I can stop it, and Torin chuckles. He knows I hate being called Helena, and I’ve reminded him several times since I’ve been back that it’s Lena now.
But before I can correct him, he smiles softly at me. “Lena,” he corrects, and I smile gratefully in return.
“Thank you so much for your help! I’d hate for the poor thing to die up there.” I add on the last bit a little loudly, hoping the nosey raven hears that I am trying my best.
During one of my mom’s many lectures on birds, she taught me that ravens are notoriously intelligent creatures and can memorize faces. I’m hoping he, or maybe she, can tell I’m making an effort here. The last thing I need right now is a bird with a vendetta or a watchful god.
Torin ducks inside to get his net, and I stand at his threshold, peering in.
“Is Lachlan here?” I call loudly.
My stomach is a riot of butterflies as I hope for even aglimpse of the gorgeous man Torin’s adopted son has grown into. Peeking around the stone cottage, I observe the distinctly masculine decor. The mismatched furniture and animal heads haven’t changed at all since I was a child. But Lachlan has; he looks nothing like the scrawny kid I remember from my youth, except for his eyes. They’re still the same gorgeous green that evokes images of an evergreen forest, but somehow more magical, like a forest from a fairytale.
“Nae, he’s not here,” Torin calls as he shuffles back to the front door.
I sag a bit with defeat and take a step back, allowing him to walk through and close the door behind him. I’ve only seen Lachlan a handful of times since being back here. There was a hint of attraction thrumming between us.Or maybe just from me.But that’s nothing new. I’ve always had a crush on him. Only now it had almost begun to seem like he was beginning to see me as something more, too.
“Oh, I saw his truck and thought he was here.” I flick my thumb to the truck parked in the driveway.
Torin leans around me, surprise lighting his eyes when he spots the truck. “Huh, well, he’s not inside. He must’ve ridden with one of his crew members to town.”
I purse my lips, disappointment washing through me. Lachlan is a contractor and is in very high demand, managing many of the historic manors between here and Orkney, where he now lives.
We walk side-by-side, our pace quick, on the way to the Hall, and I fill him in on Gran’s fits that have occurred today. Torin grunts his disapproval when I finish telling him all about my exhausting day so far.
As we make our way back up to the southern wall and enter the garden, a light breeze ruffles the lavender petals of the wisteria blooms that twine up the gate, their lovely flowery fragrance filling my nose.
The birds chattering in the trees add an ambiance of tranquility as Torin opens the back door for me and we make our way inside. When mumbling reaches our ears, we share a look of confusion.
A few words carry down the hall as Gran whispers, “You’re too big for the chimney now, my dearie.”
But that’s all I am able to hear before we round the corner into the room. I spy the bird I thought was stuck in the chimney, now settled on Gran’s right shoulder.
The image before me takes a moment to register in my mind before I sputter out, “Gran! What is—are you ok?!”
My hands clench into fists at my sides, and my eyes widen as I take in the absurdity before me. This raven isn’t nearly as large as the one by Torin’s house, but it’s still a sizable creature resting on Gran’s small shoulder. Fear floods my body, and I’m torn between running away screaming or throwing something at the bird to get it away from her.
But a quick glance over at Torin reveals him trying very hard to conceal a grin, stalling my panic. I guess this isn’t a dire situation after all, but a humorous one. How many times does one see a wild bird perched on someone’s shoulder? All I can imagine is grizzly bird attacks, with talons and beaks, damaging eyeballs.
Gran slowly turns her head my way, annoyance simmering in her eyes. “I’m just talking to a friend. Can’t you see he’s excellent company?”
The raven turns in my direction and tilts its head.Is it agreeing with her?My mouth slowly parts, and my eyes bulge.
Realization slams into me, two ravens. I’m in for a world of trouble. Torin begins chuckling, and I whip my head back towards him in utter disbelief.
“Looks like I won’t be needing this after all,” he says and leans the net against the wall. “Miss Adi, would ye and your newfriend,” he points to the raven, “like to take a walk about your favorite garden?”
Gran gracefully stands from her chair, a queen rising from her throne, and takes Torin’s offered arm. She soothingly dotes on the raven as they pass me. The state of the room now lies bare before me. I don’t even try to stifle my groan.
Ash and soot rained all over the hand-scraped wood floors and antique furniture. A splattering of what I assume to be Gran’s tea is flung about the cream-plastered walls, the puzzle on the table, and various spots on the sage green damask curtains. My left eye begins twitching with each calamity. I know it could be much worse; there could be bird poop everywhere or a dead bird on the rug, cementing my cursed future from Badb or the Father, now that I know there are two ravens.
