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After the fifth raven, Laudna began to panic.
The first was hardly noticeable. A thing to remark on over their morning tea when Imogen spotted the stately bird preening his feathers high up in a pine tree. Laudna barely saw it before he took flight, then went back to narrating the antics of the flock of sparrows tittering about her garden and snapping up all her worms. Two was a delightful curiosity the next day. Their black eyes sharp and watching from the fence post for longer than strictly comfortable.
“Maybe they’re mates,” she said to Imogen as she brought her a warm scone with a generous helping of raspberries picked from the trellises at the edge of the yard.
“Can’t blame ‘em for looking to settle down in our little corner of the world,” said Imogen as she took the plate with a smile that crinkled her eyes into those adorable crows feet. “I mean, we did kinda monopolize paradise here.”
“Charmer,” she accused, and kissed her forehead before starting in on the days work. Ravens or no, the vines needed water. Thirsty little things.
The ravens increased from a curiosity to an unkindness, and Laudna asked Pâté to intervene.
She shook her familiar’s house until he rattled out of it, snapping his beak and rubbing his eye sockets with his paws. He cried “Earthquake!” and she clamped his beak together. Frost crept up her fingers to glue his big mouth shut.
“Don’t wake Imogen,” she hissed. The ravens were closer. Four of them sitting outside her kitchen window with their eyes trained on her. The sun was still low, and the first pink of dawn was beginning to shade the morning. She wanted this sorted before Imogen could see them and start to worry. The Matron might be gone, but her ravens were still a portend. She set Pâté on her shoulder and went to point out the window. “I need you to talk to them.”
“Maa na mooo?” Pâté crowed through the frost that stuck his beak together. Laudna wiggled her fingers and released its hold. “Talk to who, mum?”
“The ravens. Your kin. Ask them what they want so they can be on their way?”
“Half kin, mum,” Pâté corrected, and scrabbled his ratty way up the window sill before opening his ribs in a horrible squelch. Laudna opened the window and bopped him out of it, but the ravens flew off before he could reach them. He wobbled in the air and settled down on the clothesline where they’d convened and sniffed about, then stood on his hind legs and waved to her. “Smells like bad omens!”
Laudna’s eyes widened until they were half her face and she bared her teeth in a hiss. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Pâté shrugged. “It’s probably fine.”
“What’s all the racket?” asked Imogen, and Laudna leapt out of her skin.
“Nothing, my love! Pâté was just taking a morning stroll!”
Imogen furrowed her brow and the stove lit and the kettle descended gracefully from its shelf and filled itself with water, and she shrugged and went to sit at the kitchen table and yawn as breakfast began to assemble itself according to her wonderful mind. “You’ll tell me before you start to spiral, alright?”
“I will,” promised Laudna, and she took her wife’s hand and squeezed it gently in thanks for the space to process. It was easy to promise Imogen. She was patient, and true, and she would wait however long it took for Laudna to deliver.
***
“It’s Lieve’tel,” Laudna growled at the five enormous ravens roosting on her porch. They were on her favorite chair, on her little Pock o’Pea original end table, scoring it with their talons. “She’s come to collect.”
“Ain’t she in Issylra?” asked Imogen. “And what could she be collecting?”
“Me!” Laudna’s hands were in her hair, clawing in distress. “She wants me to join her coven!”
“We already got a coven.” Imogen peered out of their window, pausing briefly to frown at the snagged curtains. Pâté had been climbing, and Laudna hadn’t got around to the mending. “They do look insistent. I think. I don’t know how to read birds.”
“I knew this day would come,” cried Laudna. “No one is just given a life without some kind of service in exchange.” Black tears threatened the edges of her eyes. “I don’t want to live in Issylra. I don’t think clerics even get to go to the butthole bar!”
Imogen hugged her around her boney shoulders and pulled her from her sobbing. “Honey, there’s a whole lot of steps between a murder of birds on our porch and you being relocated to Issylra.”
“It’s an unkindness,” she sniffled. “Crows are a murder.”
“And Lieve’tel didn’t give you a life, she just let you borrow some of mine. Which means, even if you owed any service for it, you’re serving it right here with me.” She took Laudna’s hand and untangled it from her long hair. It had more white in it, and a few beautiful strands of silver, and she kissed her fingers as she pulled them away. “If you want, I bet we can get Nana Morri to draw us up a contract that confirms it. Maybe put in a little clause about you already having a coven with me an’ Fearne?”
She frowned. “I don’t know that fey courts have any sway over Issylra.”
“I could send her a message.”
“Nana Morri?”
“Lieve’tel.”
“No!” Laudna was surprised at the force of her own refusal. “No no no. I couldn’t. Messages are so short. We can’t just ‘Hi, thanks, but fuck off!’ to the person who married us—”
“Our marriage came later,” said Imogen, reminding her softly while Laudna barreled on ahead.
“—surely she’s owed at least a formal apology, an explanation that I’m not ready? Or, I don’t know, I suppose now that my time is no longer unlimited I ought to give them something before I’m too old to travel. Maybe I could do a year? Would that be enough? A trial run? They’ll be sure to fire me at the end of it. Issylra really did not like me—”
“Laudna.”
She found her fingers tangled in her hair again. “I don’t want to be where everyone hates me again.”
“I’m not going to let you go to a place where everyone hates you.” She started detangling again. Ever patient, no matter how often it happened. “And I’ll get us an audience with Lieve’tel so you can turn her down gently.”
“How?”
Imogen looked at the clock on the wall, crowded with dried herbs and shelves of knick-nacks, paintings from Fearne and Morri, and did some quick math. “If we take a nap after lunch, I can bring us into Lieve’tel’s dreams. It should be past midnight for her. I hope she’ll be okay with a quick meeting while she sleeps.”
“Oh!” Laudna looked down at her house-coat, more patches than not, and the worn skirts still dusty from yesterday’s gardening. “Should I dress up?”
“You look perfect.” She kissed her cheek. “But you can look however you like in the dream.”
“Mm.” Laudna steepled her fingers and considered her options. She didn’t know the expected wardrobe for declining membership to a coven of death clerics.
“Shit,” muttered Imogen. “The ravens are pooping on my favorite chair. I’m gonna sneak under the door and spook ‘em so they don’t try flying in the house, okay?” Light flickered in her eyes and scars, then erupted as she turned to living lightning. The impression of her smile stayed in the vague approximation of her face, and then it was gone as she collapsed into a streak of light and bolted underneath the door.
A cacophony of squawks and shrieks sounded on the porch. A strange, staticky voice called “Shoo!” followed the beat of many wings, until the porch was silent, and Imogen opened the door. Lightning crackled from her hands, over her shoulders, and left scorch marks under her feat. She shook it out of herself and fussed with her hair, which still stood a little tall from her antics.
“Little help with the clean up?” she asked.
Laudna grinned and bopped her nose, catching a stray bolt of electricity between them. “Oh, but my love, you are so capable!”
***
Laudna decided, as she futzed about with the dream mirror Imogen conjured for her, that she’d rather go for imposing over demure. Her face was whorled with woodgrain, and she sharpened all her features as her hands grew long and spiked with newly budding twigs. It was not the full horror show, but a modicum of dread might remind Lieve’tel of what Laudna was.
Imogen had shucked off her regular daywear for shear and flowing chiffon, starred over in intricate embroidery that seemed to follow its own sense of geometry, making new constellations as it drifted away from her legs. Her circlet was polished and gleaming, and her sleeves were cut away to display the scars that crossed her arms.
She raised an eyebrow at the dark specter her wife had become, but still helped smooth the back of Laudna’s dress over her knobby spine. “I thought we were being polite by paying her a visit, baby. You gotta tell me in advance if we’re making this a nightmare.”
“Is it too much?” Laudna asked around a mouthful of splintered fangs. “I won’t got full nightmare, but I thought Lieve’tel might benefit from a visual reminder that I’m a very poor fit for Vasselheim.” She looked from herself in her dark gown and darker splendor, to Imogen’s shining light. “Maybe I should go for a more casual look? I suppose my day wear is spooky enough. If the neighbors are to be believed.”
“You look beautiful,” said Imogen. “But, if you’re takin’ pointers, I wouldn’t mind you a little shorter.” She reached out to lock their elbows together, and Laudna found she had to stoop.
“Shorter,” she agreed, and cracked her spine as she shrunk. “You could have floated to meet me.”
Imogen shrugged and gave her a smile. “I’m already walking in her dreams, I think being a floating, crackling ball of lightning might just put us over the top.” The world of the dream shifted around them in lavender clouds and reassembled itself somewhere cold and steely gray. Cathedral ceilings rose so high above them that Laudna lost track of their end, and the hall echoed with unseen footsteps. “Ready?” asked Imogen, her arm still tight around Laudna’s.
Laudna nodded.
“Knock knock!” Imogen made the motion with her hand as she called into the great expanse of Lieve’tel’s dream. “You got time for a little catch-up with some old friends?”
The elven woman’s smooth tones answered “Hello?” and suddenly all three of them were standing together in the impression of a quiet office. The tapestries shifted through dark colors and unseen patterns, but the heavy wooden desk Lieve’tel sat behind was solid enough, and she hit her thigh as she jumped up to greet them. “Oh!” She glanced about the dream, eyes narrowed, then looked back to her visitors with her features schooled into a welcoming smile. “You’re real, aren’t you? Both of you.”
“We are,” said Laudna.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked, and gestured for them to take a seat. The grand office grew smaller, and the desk became a kitchen table, as Lieve’tel produced a bottle of wine from an empty palm and offered them both a drink.
Imogen raised her hand a little, owning the magic that brought them together, then awkwardly put it back down at her side when Laudna launched in.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” said Laudna. “Your birds have made an absolute mess of my garden. You know you could have sent a letter.”
“My birds?” she asked. “And I doubt that a letter would have found you. You two have been difficult to find.”
“So you have been looking!” Laudna ignored the outstretched glass of wine and snatched onto her words like she was solving some great mystery. Lieve’tel looked helplessly to Imogen, who took the glass with a quiet and gracious “Thank you.”
“I haven’t, but some of my colleagues have. Some of the more combative sects of Vasselheim are more concerned with seeking out someone to punish for the new ways of the world, rather than guiding the way forward.” She nodded to Imogen. “I’m glad you’ve made yourself scarce.”
Imogen blushed and ducked her head. “Yeah. ‘Godeater’ ain’t exactly the kind of title that’s easy to get rid of.”
“So they’re not your ravens?” asked Laudna. She had burned through all the gusto she’d built to confront Lieve’tel and found herself floundering around the wine glass. “I thought your coven had the monopoly.” She tapped it, sniffed it, and stuck her tongue in, more for something to do than any curiosity over Lieve’tel’s dream wine.
“We have their blessing, but the ravens do as they will. Why did you think they were mine?”
It was Laudna’s turn to blush. She could feel the wood leaving her skin, and her teeth fit properly, humanly, behind her pursed lips. “I thought I was being called back. That you’d decided it was time I serve the coven, in return for… for the life you gave me.”
Lieve’tel reached for her. “Oh, darling. There will always be a space for you here, should you choose, but it’s not a vacant position that requires filling. If you ever wish to join us, to share with the world what you know of death, and of life, we will welcome you with open arms. But I won’t have you here out of some misplaced idea of obligation. I did not give you life. Your partner shared a bit of hers, and I was merely the conduit to allow her to give it to you.”
Laudna bit her lip. “I think I may have been a bit hasty, disturbing your sleep.”
“Not at all. I am happy to see you, both of you. It’s good to know you’re doing well.” She smiled beatifically, but the crinkle could not hide the sharpness of her eyes. “Now, where are you seeing all these ravens?”
“Feywild,” lied Imogen. She glanced at Laudna, and Laudna allowed her to take the lead. “I know I’m kind of a persona non grata among most holy folk, yourself notwithstanding, and Laudna and I thought it might be easier retiring someplace that never had much to do with the gods to begin with.”
“Hm.” Lieve’tel folded that piece of information away and nodded graciously. “Well, if you ever wish for the aid of The Duskmeadow, you need only ask. I am curious, though. I’ve never known Ravens to be a pest in the feywild.”
Laudna’s heart thudded terribly in her throat, but Lieve’tel made no further remark on Imogen’s lie.
“We ought’a get back,” said Imogen. “Let you get a good night’s sleep. Thank you, Lieve’tel, for clearin’ that up for us.”
“Thank you,” repeated Laudna softly.
“Take care, ladies. It was lovely catching up.”
The dream evaporated around them and Laudna sat up in their bed with a start. “She knows we lied.”
“Relax, babycakes,” laughed Imogen as she hauled herself up to wrap her arms around Laudna and match them cheek to cheek. “Lieve’ aint interested in stalking us. I just gave her a wild goose chase to send her ‘colleagues’ on if any of them wants to come after an ex-godeater.”
Laudna closed her fingers over Imogen’s hand. Over her heart. “Do you think we’re in danger?”
Imogen shook her head. “When Chetney built this place we put down more scry-proofing than you’d find in a palace. The only people we’re going to see are the ones we invite.”
“But where are the ravens coming from?”
Imogen shrugged, then got out of the bed and stretched her arms overhead, then down to her toes.
“It doesn’t worry you?”
“Are you worried?” she asked.
Laudna laced her fingers together and twisted her hands until she felt a comfortable pop deep in her wrist. “Well, you have to admit it’s strange. And I don’t want them messing up my garden.”
The garden was the nearest thing to her that she could admit to. She didn’t want an omen of death hanging over them so soon. It had only been twelve years since her life was kicked back onto its natural path. She had lines in her face, a strand of two of silver in her hair, but she wasn’t ready to think about death again. Not for her, and certainly not for Imogen.
Imogen looked so sturdy and solid. She looked alive and strong with the years they spent building the cottage into home. She wasn’t ready to leave this life for anything. And the ravens were encroaching on her space. Reminding her that it would not last forever.
“They’re going to scare away my frogs.”
“Do you want to make a scarecrow? Do those even work on ravens?”
Laudna considered the idea. “Maybe if I animate it?”
“I got an old shirt I don’t mind donating to the cause.”
A smile crept up to Laudna’s eyes. “You’ll help me?”
Imogen met it. “I’d love to.”
***
There were ten ravens outside. Sitting in the gourd vines, splashing in the rain barrels, kicking up peonies and cackling loudly in their victory. The largest of the lot sat directly on their new scarecrow’s head, and no amount of enchanted thrashing could get the bird to leave for longer than a minute.
“That feathery little demon has perforated Porcino’s hat!” Laudna seethed as she gathered inky spellstuff in her hand to give her newest creation another minute of life with which to defend himself.
Imogen stayed her hand. They were posted at the kitchen window, as they had been all morning, and Laudna was going to exhaust herself without ever making a dent in the ravens’ collective resolve. “Maybe this needs a more hands on approach.”
“He can do it, Imogen, we just need to give him a bit more confidence this time.”
“I hate to say it, but don’t think Porcino is up to the task.”
Laudna was aghast, and even more determined to prove their mutual creation was every bit as capable as his originators, when the ravens all flocked away at once.
“Hah!” Laudna crowed and released her hold on the spell. The dark matter around her fingers dissipated into the surrounding shadows as she threw up her hands in victory. “He did it!”
Imogen’s doubt was interrupted by a knock at the door, and they both froze.
“Who?” asked Imogen.
“What?” asked Laudna, and she sat her wife down at the kitchen table to go greet whatever had found them, ready to scare it off.
Laudna sent a bit of magic into the perfectly oiled hinges to make them creak ominously as she cracked open the door. A young girl was standing on the porch, and Laudna extinguished any monstrous qualities she might have adopted on the way from the kitchen to the door.
“Can I help you?” asked Laudna, opening it wider to better see her visitor. The girl couldn’t have been older than twelve, with dark eyes, dark hair, and she was swathed in a simple cloak, with only her well worn and dusty boots visible beneath.
“Hi,” she breathed, and smiled as though she’d been looking for Laudna for quite some time.
“Honey, who is it?” asked Imogen, and the young girl’s face lit up when Imogen appeared around Laudna’s shoulder.
“Um… I’m…” the girl bit her lip as she thought hard about her words, but Imogen seemed to pick them up regardless. She squeezed past Laudna and reached out for the girl.
“It’s you!”
“Mina,” said the girl. “But I have memories of being someone… something else.”
“Oh,” said Laudna, and she took in the unkindness of ravens that had collected at the fence. They were all so still, with eyes trained on the girl, awaiting orders, or standing guard. Beyond them, in the shadow of a twisty old pine, stood a man in black robes, a mantle of feathers around his shoulders. He was as still as the birds.
“You look like you’ve been travelin’ a while,” said Imogen. “You want to come in for a drink?” To Laudna, “Honey, we still got a pitcher of lemonade, don’t we?”
Laudna nodded, and the mortal avatar of the Matron of Ravens disappeared inside her house, pulled along by her wife.
“Well, come on, then!” Laudna barked at the man who was still brooding in the shadows. “I won’t be out ‘dark-spectered’ in my own house, so you’ll have to join us for lemonade.”
Vax’ildan bowed his head and made his way sheepishly up their walk. “Beg pardon. Thirty years of undeath leaves one’s manners a little strange.”
Laudna laughed and clapped his back. “You’re in good company here!”
The largest raven flew across her yard and landed heavily on her porch, then proceeded to march its way in after the man. Laudna hopped into his path and made herself as big as she dared while hosting honored guests, and hissed at him like a feral cat.
“Miss Laudna?”
Laudna spun and found the girl looking up at her.
“Can Nod come in with me? He’s a good boy, and he’s really proud of himself for finding you.”
Laudna sighed and moved aside for the smug little bastard to waddle past her and flap his way up to perch on Laudna’s settee.
“Join us in the kitchen?” called Imogen.
Mina pressed her nose against Nod’s beak and gave him a nuzzle, then ran off toward the kitchen, leaving Laudna alone with the menacing bird. Pâté must have noticed the change in the air, because he tumbled out of his birdhouse and skittered across the floor to climb up and puff his little chest at Nod.
“Oi. Big man. So’s we’re clear, my god kinda killed yours once, so you’d better be on your best behavior.”
“Pâté. We do not threaten guests.” Laudna bared her teeth at the bird in a sharp grin. “Even if they are hat piercing hooligans.”
Nod preened himself, and Laudna accepted the neutral motion as apology enough, then followed into the kitchen.
Imogen was putting out a good spread of snacks for the short notice, and the girl, Mina, was diving in with abandon. She remarked on the flavor of everything put in front of her with a similar southern Marquet twang.
“So you’re from around here,” said Imogen.
Mina nodded. “A small town not too far from Sruawargas.”
“And how long have you known?” asked Laudna. The girl seemed quite ordinary, aside from her unusual heralds. She was joyous and bouncy and she picked on Vax’ildan whenever she thought it might get a laugh. And he, he was quiet in a proud and fatherly way.
“Not long,” said Mina. “But also, kind of always? Like, I knew there was something different, but I didn’t know what it was until Vax showed up at my house.” She looked pointedly down at the half eaten cookie on her plate. “I’m not ready to be different.”
“And I will not allow anyone to rush you,” said Vax’ildan, as he softly set his hand at her back.
“I asked the ravens to find you,” said Mina. “I know I was getting, um, weird. For my parents. They love me, but I know they’re not ready for things to change and… um. Vax and I said we were just taking a little trip, a test run to see if I’m really Her or if I just have weird powers. You know. Sometimes a little lie makes it easier.”
“And you came here?” Imogen looked around at their little godless cottage, the quiet retirement they’d made. “You know they still call me Godeater in some circles.” She gave a playful, menacing, chomp of her teeth.
Mina laughed. “I remembered you, when the memories started coming back. Both of you. And how you wanted some normal even though you’d had everything but. And I thought, maybe, if I’m not ready, maybe I could talk to you until I am?”
“We do know a bit about being different,” said Laudna.
The ordinary girl looked out of the kitchen, to the dark bird that watched them from his perch in the living room, and in that moment the dark of her eyes ran too deep. A chill fell over the room. And then she looked back to Laudna, and it was gone.
Laudna gave her a soft smile. The one she trained herself to use with the ruidian kids when they were afraid of a brand new world, with the neighbors when they were concerned about the witches in their cottage. The one she never had to reach for with Imogen, because it was easy to be soft with Imogen. “It can be good; being different. It leads you to your people.”
“And how long is this summer vacation?” asked Imogen.
Mina looked to Vax, who answered “As long as she needs.”
“Good,” said Laudna. “There’s a guest room for you both. I’ll have to see about the linens, but I’m sure with a bit of sprucing it’ll be homey enough.”
Imogen clasped her hand with Laudna’s and gave her a loving squeeze. “We’ll probably have to get to town a little sooner to make sure everyone is fed, but I don’t mind having guests.”
“Really?” asked Mina. “I don’t know how long we’ll stay. I don’t know anything about this, really. It’s all so new.”
Laudna smiled and loomed over the young god at her kitchen table. “You’ll stay long enough to teach those birds to respect my garden—”
“Done,” said Mina, with a gulp, and Nod gave a remorseful squawk from the other room, followed by Pâté’s hearty chortle.
“—and as long as you need after that.” She poured the girl another glass of lemonade and ceased her looming. “Imogen is old hat at subverting the world’s expectations. You’ll be learning from the best.”
Imogen blushed and gave her a peck on her cheek, then turned to Mina. “I can tell you the most important step is getting some friends and loved ones who’ll support you.” She winked. “So you’ve come to the right place.”