Chapter Six
The color of the feathers smeared across Caspian’s field of vision until, as if blinded, he saw only black.
He jumped as he woke up with a start, relieved to find himself safe and sound in Dr. Kilpatrick’s guest bed. Bright light seeped around the edges of the heavy window drapes. He’d slept the whole night.
For a while, he laid in bed and tried to collect his thoughts. Was he going crazy, or was there some other reason for the dreams at night that connected with the ravens of the day? Caspian didn’t believe in the supernatural. At least, he hadn’t before.
The dreams were so vivid, unlike any he’d had before and a strange scent of something almost like rain clung to Caspian’s skin. A delicious smell that he didn’t want to wash away because he associated with that man and sex and a truly wonderful feeling that was more than just arousal.
The dreams weren’t just sexy dreams. They hinted at fulfillment. They offered a life of love and contentment, which Caspian would grasp with both hands if it were real.
Perhaps these dreams were the result of relaxing after all the stress of years of study, Caspian reasoned. Or on the other hand, they could be the result of the underlying tension Caspian experienced now his studies were over, and he had no plan for the future.
It wasn’t unreasonable to guess he might be dreaming about something he wished for in real life. A handsome and fantastic lover who also promised long-term commitment.
Either that, or he was going insane.
Caspian got out of bed, washed, and ate breakfast listlessly.
All the while he kept his eyes on the window, watching the forest. There was no sign of any ravens this morning. The absence made him feel lonely, even though there was no reason to think a wild creature should join him every day for breakfast.
Longing to get back into the forest, he thought about the chores that needed doing as a priority. He’d promised himself the joy of cool air from the day of his arrival at Dr. Kilpatrick's, and it wasn’t going to happen all by itself. He’d have to haul those machines out of the basement and set them up. While in the basement, it was high time he figured out how to operate the washing machine before the laundry got out of control.
He should also contact civilization, just to make sure it was still there and not overrun by aliens or killer birds. And to make sure he wasn’t losing touch and slipping into total insanity without knowing it. He could pop into the nearby town, get some groceries as he was low on perishables having bought very little with him.
He doubted the small town would have a bookshop, but he could ask. He knew there was a library and it wouldn’t hurt to check it out. That, at least, would be something to look forward to.
And he’d talk to real people, face to face. People, not animals and birds and trees.
When Caspian finished eating, he set his bowl in the sink and wandered down to the basement.
The expansive basement had at one time been used as the servant’s quarters, according to Dr. Kilpatrick. Caspian pulled the chain for the overhead light and moved through the basement hallway, poking his head into each room to investigate. He found the individual rooms and strange layout unsettling.
A workout room. An office. A spare bedroom. A grimy bathroom. Dr. Kilpatrick lacked a passion for interior design, but the man had always been a little odd. Caspian didn’t let it get him down.
A storage room was tucked away at the end of the hall. Inside was unused furniture, forgotten pieces of art, and towering stacks of unmarked cardboard boxes, all abandoned and forgotten. At the back of the room, Caspian saw several window units. He grinned in victory and picked his way across the room.
It turned out window-mounted air conditioners were a lot heavier than he expected. Caspian squatted down and struggled to lift one, squeezing his eyes shut and biting back in effort. “Shit.”
How was he supposed to carry an air conditioner out with so much junk in the way? Caspian abandoned his efforts and recalculated his plans. First, he’d clear a path to the doorway, then he’d get the air conditioner upstairs and install it.
Somehow.
In the end, the air conditioning was worth the struggle. Caspian plopped onto his bed and lay back as cool air blasted into the room. He figured—once he found the energy—that he could install a second unit in the kitchen and a third in the living room. Dr. Kilpatrick had no shortage of them. Caspian wondered why he didn’t invest in renovations instead of band-aid solutions to the problem, but it wasn’t his place to ask. He was only house sitting. When Dr. Kilpatrick returned from his three-month vacation in Europe, Caspian would head back home to Riverside.
He wasn’t looking forward to it.
Caspian hadn’t seen much of Beaumont, but there was something about the small, quiet town that spoke to him. He’d felt it the moment he’d reached city limits. The excitement of solitary living and the idea of a new adventure stirred him. Driving into town that first day must've been the last prompt he needed to internalize that his life had changed. No more walking down the stairs to shop just along the street from his college dorm.
Still, days later, the shivers of excitement hadn’t abated.
It was as if Caspian’s soul had awoken from a lifelong slumber. He thought he could be happy here. Beaumont was small and boring by most people's standards, but Caspian thought he could make it work. He'd take three months to test it out.
“So what now?” he asked the empty room.
After a thorough exploration of the house earlier that day, it'd become evident Dr. Kilpatrick only cleaned the rooms he used regularly. As he seemed to use less than half the rooms, the house was apparently far too large for him.
Several of the other rooms in the house needed dusting and airing out, which could occupy Caspian's time. It’d be fun to enjoy the whole house.
But there on his bed, letting the cold air wash over him, it also sounded like work for another day.
Bringing cool air to the old house had taken longer than Caspian anticipated, and it was damn hard work. The way he figured it, he’d earned his trip into the forest. He probably still had enough groceries to put off his shopping trip for another day.
He packed a bag this time, wary of being out without essentials. He considered a compass, map, water, a snack, and an eReader as the absolute minimum items required for survival. In the basement, while nosing around, he’d found a pocket knife, which might come in handy.
Unsure where he was headed, Caspian let his instincts guide the way. Watching out for landmarks to aid his return home more smoothly this time around, he checked his compass regularly against the map so he’d have some notion of the direction he headed in, but otherwise, he abandoned the path and followed his nose.
As he walked, he mulled over questions he’d like answered, although he didn’t expect they ever would be. What were the ravens doing? Why had it looked like one was injured, then miraculously recovered? Why did birds follow him and lead him home? How did they communicate so effectively?
And, most importantly, why was there a raven manifesting itself as a man in his dreams?
Caspian didn’t like to think that he was projecting his loneliness into his dreams, but he guessed it was probably the best explanation.
He thought he was adjusting well to the solitude that he craved. There was a chance his subconscious latched onto the only living thing he’d interacted with recently, to tell him he wasn’t so suited to life as a solo hermit, after all.
However, Caspian’s rational thought couldn’t explain everything. Ravens were smart, but they didn’t guide lost travelers out of forests, or give exasperated looks, or respond to English. They were wild; they didn’t invite themselves indoors for breakfast. They just didn’t. And yet…
This time, Caspian wasn’t afraid of getting lost. He had the time and equipment and desire to roam further afield for hours. The forest was more beautiful on the inside than it looked mysterious from the outside. Every few steps there was something new to look at.
Mushrooms grew in stacks on trees, their staggered caps broad and white. Moss covered the ground and cushioned Caspian’s steps. From time to time, he came across small streams or large, stagnant ponds. In those moments in the forest, it felt very much like he’d stepped out of real life and into somewhere different. Caspian didn’t know where exactly. He had a hard time believing that somewhere so otherworldly could be on the very edge of the town and at the foot of his yard.
The deeper he traveled into the forest, the stranger it became. Mushrooms with broad, spotted tops grew in clusters. Now and then, Caspian thought he saw them move.
The oddity of the ravens was just the tip of the iceberg. The whole forest was bizarre in ways he wasn’t able to explain. Only a few feet in and all cell service disappeared, for starters.
Strangely twisted trees, ferns, mosses, and myriad colorful flowers the like of which Caspian had never seen before seemed to emerge at every turn.
As he went further, an antsy sense of discomfort that he was very far from home overshadowed his enjoyment of the beauty. A feeling that wasn't at all justified by the distance he could’ve covered in what had still been less than an hour.
He wasn’t afraid, but he did feel apprehensive.
And then he heard a familiar sound.
The nearby babble of cascading water.
Conjured up his dream from the night before, sounding the same.
The waterfall. The pool.
It couldn’t possibly be the same as in his dream. It sounded so near, and Caspian knew he’d soon break through the foliage and see it. Spine straightening, his shoulder blades pinched together. On high alert, Caspian headed toward the sound. He was half hoping it would be the same, and yet, he knew it wasn’t possible.
After passing a grove of twisted trees, he came across an all-too-familiar patch of soft grass.
A natural pool bubbled in the distance, its surface disturbed by a waterfall.
Shocked by what he saw, Caspian recognized each familiar detail.
The same rock face. The same assembly of ledges and grooves.
Rocks identical to those he’d seen in his dream now surrounded the pool.
It wasn’t possible. How could it be possible?
Caspian had dreamed of this place when he’d never been here before.
One of them—the one Caspian had climbed out of the pool upon—was still wet.
His heart shot into his throat.
“Bran?” he asked uncertainly. “Are you here?”
No reply.
Caspian came to a stop by the pool close to the rock. It couldn’t still be wet from last night’s dream; it must be a coincidence.
He looked down at it in awe. This couldn’t be real.
He had dreamed the encounter last night, but he wasn’t dreaming now.
There had to be a rational explanation, but he couldn’t think of one immediately.
Well, it had to be a coincidence. A really, really big coincidence.
Caspian ran his tongue across his teeth and swallowed the saliva that built in his mouth.
He tucked his hands into his back pockets and shook his head.
He was in over his head.
After the summer was over, it was a good thing he intended heading back to Riverside. He obviously wasn’t built for small-town living.
“Okay,” Caspian said out loud. “I’m obviously unsettled. I must’ve come across this place without realizing it earlier and dreamed about it last night.” He knew it wasn't true. He'd never been here. But perhaps he's seen photographs? Perhaps it had been used as a film location? “But just in case, if there is some force out there, I’m, uh, thanks for keeping me safe. I know I’ve messed up more than once.”
As he spoke, Caspian looked up. Mist rolled over the pond, originating from the waterfall. There was movement behind it.
Biting his lip, nervously, Caspian stepped forward. “Bran? Is that you?”
Of course, it wasn’t Bran. It would never be Bran, the man from his dreams. A man too handsome to be real. No one would ever live up to that fantasy.
Bran wasn’t behind the waterfall.
Through the mist, Caspian spotted a group of people standing near the waterfall. Their skin was so pale, the bright sunlight bouncing off the water combined with the white mist almost concealed them. As he focused, he saw them more clearly. Six individuals stood there, pale and beautiful, each of them with hair as black as the silk sheets from Caspian’s dreams. In the light, the hair shone in iridescent blues and greens—sometimes purple. Their bodies were narrow and lithe, almost elf-like. Long, slender limbs led to shapely torsos.
Two out of the six gathered were women.
They were all nude.
Caspian dropped his gaze, unsure what he should do. Speak? Turn away? Leave?
“I, um…” Caspian didn’t think he could turn around and walk away. All of them were looking his way—there was no doubt that they saw him. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to stare. I was just… looking for someone.”
Someone a lot like them, but who wasn’t in their midst.
Caspian tugged at his backpack strap, eager for a distraction. A reason not to look at the beautiful people and only partially because of their nudity. He felt uncomfortable because he didn’t know what he’d stumbled upon. “I think maybe I should just go.”
Silence followed.
When he looked up again, all six of the individuals had stepped forward. Caspian studied them in detail.
They looked human, but they couldn’t be. They were far too perfect for it. Too beautiful to be human. And he wasn’t sure whether he should fear them.
“Don’t go.” One of the men spoke. He stood a little taller and a little broader than the others. “You will stay.” His tone was forceful but not overbearing.
Caspian dug his heel into the ground, nervous. None of the individuals were armed, but there were six of him, and one of him. If they wanted him to stay, they could restrain him easily. He didn’t want to force their hand.
“Okay. I’m staying. What do you want me to stay for?”
“We have been sent on behalf of the congress to talk. You will stay to hear it.” The statements were framed as commands but spoken in such a tone, Caspian didn’t feel threatened.
“I can do that.” Caspian rubbed his arm. The deeper he delved into this mystery, the stranger it became. “I’m listening.”
“We owe you a tremendous boon.” The spokesman stood a step in front of the others, taking the lead. “Each one of us in the congress appreciates the kindness you have shown to our prince.”
Caspian wasn’t sure which to investigate first—his kindness, or the man’s use of the word “prince.” He didn’t have a chance to ask either before the man continued.
“Each of us will stand for you during a time of need. Our debt to you is great.”
“I don’t think I understand.”
“It is not important.” The man stood firm before him. “All you need to know is that the congress has held court and you have gained our favor. We will be there for you when you need us.”
Caspian nodded. He didn’t know what else to do. It all seemed too crazy.
“So are you… are you here because of Bran?” Caspian hazarded a guess. “Am I getting this right?”
One of the women giggled into her hand. The man beside her nudged her with his elbow. The display of humanity by these ethereal beings helped put Caspian at ease.
“No,” the man answered decisively, ignoring the woman behind him. “We are here as judges of the congress. Your actions have brought us here—not anything or anyone exterior to that.”
Caspian still didn’t understand what was going on. He had scattered pieces to put together but wasn’t sure of any of it. Bran and their dreams. The raven feathers by the waterfall. The raven with the broken wing he’d rescued from the squawking crowd. The very human behaviors the raven demonstrated. And now here were these humanoid creatures praising him for his kindness.
This meeting suggested his raven was Bran.
Bran was the injured raven and not the breakfast guest. Caspian didn’t know how he knew it; he just did. The kindness comment must’ve been about saving Bran's life when he had an injured wing. Sharing breakfast with a raven and escorting it back to the forest wasn't in the same league of gestures.
However, there were at least one or two small details that didn’t add up.
Ravens do not occasionally take human form when they feel like it.
That might not have been a small detail. More like a very large detail.
Ravens in human form can’t enter people’s dreams and make love to them, either. Caspian felt a red heat run along his skin at the thought.
Magic doesn’t exist, and Caspian was officially going mad was the more likely explanation, and he knew it. He made a snap decision not to share any of these thoughts with the six nude people in the forest, even if they were simply a delusion.
“We have delivered our message.” The spokesman stepped back into the crowd. “There is nothing more to be said.”
Caspian nodded. “Okay. Thanks.” Feeling awkward, with no idea where to look, so he gazed at his own feet like a schoolboy in trouble. “So am I dismissed?”
“You are dismissed,” the man replied.
When Caspian looked up again, the creatures were gone.
Despite the comforting message of a group of beings sort of being on his side when he needed them, Caspian was still really uncomfortable with the whole situation. He decided to go back to the house and spend more time with books and civilization, just as he kept promising himself, before he lost his mind in this forest completely.
He retraced his footsteps back through the forest, eager to get away from nature and back to the comfortable safety of his books. Indoors.
That night, curled up on the couch in the living room, Caspian could've sworn he felt eyes on him. He lifted his head to look out through the patio door, but there was no one there.