Chapter Four
Without hesitation, the raven strolled in through the door as soon as Caspian opened it. It walked across the floor, talons clicking on the hardwood. Caspian knew he shouldn’t let wild animals into Dr. Kilpatrick’s house, but the raven barely seemed wild. It was inquisitive and smart. It appeared, generally, well-behaved. It had somehow escaped the house yesterday only to return this morning, and felt welcome to come back in.
Caspian decided not to shoo it away.
It clicked across the floor as Caspian filled a bowl with cereal and sat at the kitchen island. The raven clawed its way up one of the tall kitchen stools to perch on top and watch Caspian curiously. Much to his amusement, the raven joined him for breakfast.
Caspian couldn’t help blushing. It must’ve been the lingering after-effects of the dream. Something that hot wasn’t quickly forgotten. To make matters worse, in the morning light, the raven’s feathers reminded him of the stranger’s hair. The raven’s dark eyes were also much like the dark eyes that had bored through him in his dreams.
In fact, Caspian didn’t dismiss the fact that his subconscious might have humanized the raven. The events he’d been through yesterday were bizarre enough to allow for it.
As he looked at this bird more closely, he realized it was not the same raven who'd broken a wing. This raven was just a little smaller. And looked different in every way. Different eyes, a differently shaped face and head. And a different shade of black wings. It seemed crazy. Surely they all looked the same. But they didn't.
No matter, Caspian dug his spoon into his cereal. He waited for the milk to stop dripping from the bottom, then lifted the spoon to his mouth. The raven watched.
“Are you somebody’s pet?” Caspian asked after he’d swallowed and dug around for another spoonful. “Is that why you’re so strange?”
The raven ruffled his feathers in apparent displeasure.
“Either you can understand what I’m saying, or you don’t like the sound of my voice.” All of this was insane. The raven wasn’t answering him—he imagined things. “So if you’re not somebody’s pet, what are you?” Insane. Obviously, the bird wasn’t going to answer.
It tilted its head to the side.
Caspian frowned and dipped his spoon into his cereal again, giving most of his attention to his food, but keeping an eye on the bird.
Eventually, the raven shook himself and hopped onto the table.
Caspian made a mental note to disinfect the countertop. “Okay. I guess. Go ahead. As long as you don’t—”
The raven pecked a rice puff from Caspian’s bowl and threw his head back as he ate.
Amazed by the audacious creature, Caspian scowled. He pushed the bowl toward the raven and planted his elbows on the countertop. “Guess it’s yours now.”
It dutifully pecked the cereal from the bowl until only milk remained.
Fascinated by the way the bird’s neck moved, Caspian watched. He couldn’t deny that the creature was beautiful. Smooth feathers, hard talons, and wise eyes—not many other animals looked half as well put together.
The opportunity for this close-up study more than made up for the fact that an intruder had swiped his breakfast, and Caspian didn’t think to get himself another. That would’ve involved moving and might actually scare the bird away.
“Now that you’ve finished breakfast, what do you want to do?” Caspian took the bowl from the counter and dumped the milk down the sink. What a waste. “How about we take you home, back to that pond?”
The raven didn't reply. It was a raven, after all, not a parrot.
Caspian’s shoes were on the mat by the front door. He returned to them and put them on. The raven bit at his shoelaces, nearly nipping him a few times in the process. He waved a hand, but the raven was bold.
Before he stepped out of the house, Caspian made sure he had his keys. The raven followed him out, then hopped down the few steps dividing the front door from the ground. When it reached the grass, it turned to face Caspian as if making sure he was coming along.
How much of this was in his imagination? At times like this, he thought his mom was right—he really did need real friends and not just books.
He double checked the door was locked behind him, then followed the raven down the stairs and partway along the path. They crossed the lawn together, each crunch of grass underfoot bringing them closer to the forest and away from the highway.
Once Caspian showed the raven back into the forest, he was sure the raven wouldn’t return, and he wasn’t sure why the thought upset him as much as it did. He shouldn’t feel as if he were losing an old friend.
“All right,” Caspian said as they entered the forest. “We’re going to get you home, okay? No more hanging around the house and pecking at the door. You belong out here, not where I am.”
The raven made a noise that sounded like distaste.
“Don’t be like that.” He couldn’t have completely lost his mind. Walking and talking with a raven was insanity. But at least he was aware of how crazy it seemed. And, at least, he didn’t think the raven had spoken to him. Hearing birds talk would be the final nail in the coffin of his sanity. “You’re going to be fine. This is where you live. You’ve lived here all your life, probably. Or… or somewhere near here, at least.”
The raven clicked his beak.
“Don’t give me attitude.”
There must be something seriously wrong with him. Two days of solitude shouldn’t be too much—maybe he wasn’t meant to be alone. How would he survive three months? Caspian decided there and then, he’d seek out human contact later that very day.
They walked through the woods for a while. Caspian recognized the moss and mushrooms along the way. When he passed the fallen tree and the wildflowers, he knew that they were close. Soon enough, they’d come across the mossy bank bathed in sunlight, and from there, he’d find the ravens’ pond.
The closer they drew, the more the raven lagged behind.
They’d gone a good fifteen-minute walk from the house. Caspian wasn’t even sure why he wanted to escort the raven back. He’d brought the raven back to where it belonged—his duty was done. So why did he feel otherwise?
To his surprise, the raven took flight in a sudden flap of wings. Caspian sucked in a breath as the bird flew right by him, so close that the tip of the raven’s wing brushed his arm. The raven flapped to an uneasy stop three feet ahead of Caspian and struck a pugnacious pose.
How strange is that?
“Cool. Okay. I’m going to go.”
The raven didn’t acknowledge him but ignored him as if he didn’t exist. It stayed still, facing forward. It appeared alert and on guard.
Caspian was about to turn when he spotted movement through the trees. He stopped as more ravens approached. He couldn’t be sure they were the same as those from the day before, but they looked like it.
They were led by a bigger raven who looked exactly like the one who'd been so vocal the day before. It came through the trees approaching Caspian’s raven, and the two stood face to face in silence while the other ravens moved nearer.
Caspian counted them.
Three stood behind the bigger raven. Three were scattered to his left. Three sat in the trees to the right. Caspian narrowed his eyes to search, but the six other ravens were still missing… At least until he turned his head. The last six stood behind him as a united force.
This fierce-looking bunch circled them. A shiver ran down Caspian’s spine. All of a sudden, the forest wasn’t as friendly as he’d thought.
Caspian’s raven took a contentious step toward the bigger one.
Caspian watched, unsure what else to do. He was pretty sure the rest of the ravens would descend upon him if he moved.
The bigger raven and Caspian’s raven stood in silence, staring each other down for what seemed like an eternity. Suddenly, the bigger bird flapped its wings and screeched.
Caspian took a startled step backward and gasped. Whatever was happening, whatever games the ravens were playing, he wasn’t a part of it. He was intruding into something he had no business with. He had to leave.
Before he could move, Caspian’s raven puffed up, but even as he did, the rest of the ravens started to close in. All of a sudden, darting forward like arrows, flashes of black feathers whizzed past Caspian’s head.
After scrambling backward out of their way, he turned and ran. He didn’t know if the ravens were chasing him—he was too frightened to look back. The world shook with each of his footfalls. It wasn’t long before his lungs shriveled and his throat closed.
He slowed.
No squawking or desperate flap of wings tailed him. He’d lost the birds deeper in the woods. They weren’t interested in him. Otherwise, he wouldn't have escaped so easily.
When he stopped completely, he hooked his arm around a tree to ground himself, then leaned into it for support as he struggled to breathe. Caspian rested his forehead against the tree and closed his eyes. The hot morning air was stifling even beneath the shade. His shirt was damp from sweat. He needed water to drink more than anything, but he’d left the house without his pack. Dropping the raven off was supposed to be a simple good deed before breakfast—second breakfast. He hadn’t planned on being circled by a gang of five-pound birds with wicked claws.
As he regained himself, Caspian opened his eyes and took a look around.
He didn’t recognize this part of the forest, and he didn’t know how he could find his way back after he'd ran in confusion and fear. He hadn’t set off ready for a hike in the woods so being lost gave him something new to worry about.
He was lost and ill-prepared.
Great.
Caspian bit down on his bottom lip. It tasted like sweat and reminded him how badly he needed a drink. Some streams and ponds ran through the forest, but he wasn’t sure if the water was suitable for drinking. He had no idea how to tell. Ingesting a parasite or exposing himself to dangerous bacteria were not things he’d planned as part of his woodland adventures, but what other choice did he have?
Two things became clear very quickly—he wouldn’t ingest anything if he couldn’t find water. And standing around wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Caspian was on his own. No one would come looking for him. He would have to find his way out on his own.
He took a deep breath and set out.
The forest couldn’t stretch on forever. Could it?
Three hours later, Caspian sank down beside the stream he’d been following and gave his feet a rest. He’d caved at the hour and a half mark and drank liberally from the stream. The water felt cold and tasted earthy. Caspian spent the next hour and a half praying that it wasn’t going to make him sick.
With no end in sight to the forest, bacteria and parasites seemed the least of his worries. Caspian wasn’t exactly a hunter. He couldn’t trap a squirrel or hunt down a deer. He didn’t even know how to identify edible mushrooms. He knew he could last a few days without food, but how long could he wander in this direction? He didn’t have his compass to guide him, and no map. His phone—the only thing he had on him apart from his keys—didn’t have reception out here. The forest was like a black hole.
Three hours meant he must've been walking in the wrong direction; otherwise, he would’ve come across the highway or Beaumont already.
What would happen if night fell while he was still in the woods? Caspian knew there had to be bigger predators somewhere out there. He dreaded the thought of what would happen to him if one of them happened to cross paths with his sleeping body in the pitch black.
He could only keep going and hope.
Caspian fanned his toes out, stretched his legs, then climbed to his feet. Tiny pebbles stuck in his palms. He brushed them off. It hadn’t been all that long, but his body was already starting to stiffen from exertion. The heat wasn’t helping.
Caspian took a deep breath and resolved to be positive. Eventually, he’d come to a house or road or something. He just had to. Even if the house he stumbled upon was remote, it’d mean that someone was around to point him in the right direction. They might even be able to take him back to town. And if the house were abandoned, he’d have shelter for the night. With a roof over his head, the thought of spending the night in the woods was a lot less frightening.
The stream broke into two. Caspian followed the right fork, ever alert for landmarks he recognized. None of the trees were familiar. The plants, the trees, and even the sound of the insects were bizarre here. Caspian had a feeling that he wasn’t where he should have been.
He felt a long, long way away from home.
He heard a noise in the distance. Caspian lifted his head to look.
The raven dove down from the treetops and came to a stop about six feet away. It was difficult to tell, but Caspian had a feeling that it was his raven, the one he’d rescued the other day and not the same one who'd visited him for breakfast.
The raven took a few steps forward, his dark eyes locked with Caspian’s. Caspian pursed his lips, unsure what to do. He didn’t want to look any crazier than he already was.
If he continued to talk to ravens, he felt sure he was going to break.
He decided to keep walking.
The raven looked pissed, but that was surely Caspian’s imagination.
He ruffled his feathers and dug his feet into the ground. With a flutter of his wings, he jumped over the stream and scratched at the ground again.
Desperately wanting to cling to sanity, he tried to ignore the bird. After all, it was due to a raven that he was in his current predicament.
The raven refused to be ignored. It fluttered right up in front of Caspian and flapped its wings. Caspian could see this was not the raven from earlier but also not the broken wing raven. This was crazy. Caspian could now identify individual birds, and they were all trying to communicate with him.
Nevertheless, Caspian had nothing to lose, and the bird seemed very insistent as if it were trying to say something.
The raven took a few more steps up the bank. He looked back at Caspian pointedly as if to say, “Come on!”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Caspian muttered under his breath. He jumped across the stream and followed the bird.
The raven walked at a steady pace, never taking to the trees or straying too far ahead. When they came to an obstacle, it always waited on the other side for Caspian to conquer it before the bird continued to lead the way.
Time marched onward. The raven never left Caspian’s side.
The forest broke, and quite suddenly, Caspian found himself looking at Dr. Kilpatrick’s house. His heart leaped into his chest, and he turned to thank the raven only to find that the raven had already gone.