bodies. He waded right into the water, roaring as if he wanted me to wait. I floated on an updraft. Would he sink? Or swim?
The Sea Wolf reached the depths and sank into the waves for one horrible heartbeat. Then his head broke the surface, his furry arms and legs churning the water.
I cawed and pointed my beak into the mist. The small shadow of a bird coasted over the water, leading the white-furred creature toward the open sea. I could only hope the magic gave him enough strength and stamina to follow me where I flew. I did not know how long we would journey. I did not even know the way.
Mother, guide me, I prayed. And bravely, stupidly, flapped into the grey.
For a moment my senses scrambled. Up was down and down was up. I forgot to flap my wings and tumbled closer to the water. Animal instincts took over and I regained the height, cawing to scold myself. I must trust myself, and the raven. Below, the white-furred beast swam doggedly on. He would follow me to the ends of the earth and beyond. I must figure out where to go.
Ahead, made of mist and light, a figure detached itself from a cloud and flew ahead of me in the shape of a raven. I stretched and strained my wings to follow. We flew through the fog, the spirit raven leaving a trail of light for me to follow.
It took longer than it should’ve for me to realize where the light raven led me. Nanny had hinted about the secret haven across the water, the home my mother built. Nanny had wanted me to fly there and hide from Dòmhnall. Nanny knew my mother hadn’t kept it for her own solitude. My mother had kept it for me. And the story they both told was one I needed to hear.
As a raven flies true, you’ll always find your way home.
It was destiny then. His and mine.
5
I did not know how long I flew, leading the Sea Wolf home. He swam with boundless energy and I found new strength in knowing the curse wouldn’t kill him before I could bring him home.
At last the mists broke. The raven of light cawed and soared away, becoming one with the sun sparkling on the calm waters. A green land stretched before me; one I’d never seen. No houses nor people, only a few white dots that might be sheep grazing on their lonely pastures. But on the edge of the water, at the end of a long line of rocks, stood a little hut. The one my mother built. The one Nanny spoke of.
Home.
The Sea Wolf was another, larger, white dot in the great sea. I waited until I was sure he knew where I was headed and used the favorable wind to outdistance him. I had to hurry if I wanted to arrive first and make ready.
The moment my claws touched land, I transformed. I sprawled, a naked, wild haired woman, on the little hut’s doorstep. Teeth chattering from the Change, I pushed open the sturdy door. It swung open easily before me in welcome. I said a prayer of thanks to my mother and hurried inside.
The hut wasn’t too big, but it wasn’t too small. Ægir would fit through the door. He wouldn’t be able to stand anywhere but the apex of the roof, but he could sit by the hearth. Or lie on the bed…
I pressed cold hands to flaming cheeks. The air was unseasonably warm, but I was chilled from my flight. There was a neat stack of driftwood beside the hearth. I peered up the stone chimney to be sure there were no nests in it, and saw a simple grate at the top, cunningly keeping any creatures out.
The tinder was dry, too. No mold had taken hold within the stone walls. The place wasn’t even too dusty. The shelves on the walls were mostly empty, but other than a few spiderwebs, they were clean. There was a cedar box under the bed, and I found a few of my mother’s work dresses. The bed held woolen blankets, uneaten by any moths.
My mother knew how to keep a household. The door kept out any curious sheep and here and there were packets of mint to deter mice.
I tossed a bundle of herbs on the fire as I’d watched Nanny do and said a word of thanks. For one heartbeat, my skin prickled with a rush