Happy freaking birthday to me.
I shiver violently as the wind howls all around me and the mist from the waves below soaks me through. The heat generated from lightning travel has worn off and I am vividly aware that I am sitting exposed, in the middle of a hurricane, in nothing more than a bra and panties.
Somewhere behind me high-pitched wails mix with the sounds of the storm in an eerie song. I have no idea where the fuck I am, but from the looks and sound of it, it’s not a place people come on purpose. It’s certainly not a place that I have any desire to be. There is magic here. Dark magic. It pulls and pokes at me. The air is wild and sinister here and I fight the urge to hide in my Raven form. My instincts tell me that to shift now would be to give in to the magic. A Rowan doesn’t give in. We get even.
I scoot on my butt along the ledge and see that it continues to descend into the mist, like a spiral or a staircase of some kind. The mapping exercise distracts me long enough to resist the shift and I am thankful for the appearance of the Rowan stubbornness as I try to take inventory of the things I know:
I traveled by lightning, without warning, so The Fates have to be involved. Check.
I am in the middle of fucking nowhere. It’s cold. There’s water. And wind. And rock. Check.
There are other creatures here, somewhere. Check.
I will die if I do not get inside and find shelter. Yikes. Check.
This ledge or staircase or whatever it is isn’t big enough for me to shift into my Raven fully yet the magic surrounding it really, really wants me to. Must resist. Check.
I am sitting here in my underwear. That’s...problematic. Check.
If this is where The Fates intend me to complete my service, they have another thing coming. They can check the hell out of that.
I may be cold. I may be terrified. I may even be in way, way over my head. But goddess-damn it all, I am a Rowan! We are the Ravens chosen by royalty. We watch over the world. We guard moments in history and the shadowy elite who orchestrate them. We do not….visit whatever strange hell this is.
My little pep talk does nothing to alleviate any of my concerns but the quick image of my Grandmother sweeping into The Council and demanding an explanation in all of her Old World regal glory gave me a small measure of hope. Grandmother would never let me languish here. This isn’t part of our plan.
I was supposed to do my service with minor royalty somewhere in Europe before being elevated to a personal bodyguard to the elite where I would live out my life in the state of luxury and privilege I am accustomed to. Clearly, The Fates got it wrong.
The thought was barely out of my head when an especially large wave suddenly crashed against the rock and drenched me from head to toe in frigid sea water, seaweed and sand.
The Fates are salty, vindictive bitches. I roar back at the ocean, my scream full of rage and fear. They may have put me here, but I am not done fighting. I am a daughter of Raven Clan Rowan. I will write my own fate.
I duck, anticipating another wave of retribution to head towards me but none come. Instead, on the horizon, I see a dark object battling the wind and headed my way. Crap. This Island has guards.
Gage Anders, Raven Sentry Badge #657
The Nest, Shadow Island SuperMax Prison
I woke up suddenly because something in the air changed and then the magic of the Island shifted. It was subtle, but there was something--a new undercurrent that I couldn’t put my finger on. Whatever it was, it made my shift out of Raven and back into Gage painless for the first time in months. I sent a silent prayer of thanks to The Fates for granting me that small mercy.
The storm raging outside rattled the windows in our shack and the chill seeped in through the wide cracks in the walls. Jace would still be out on patrol. Of the two of us, he’s more of the Boy Scout. No matter the weather, he’s out there doing his perimeter checks and patrolling.
I gave up on that kind of dedication years ago. The magic here is oppressive and it eats away at your soul. It’s calculated, as if it knows if we are constantly walking a tightrope between hope and despair, we won’t realize how much time has gone by. It’s been five years since I have spoken to anyone other than my brother.
Five long years since I have seen another of my kind. I am done with giving my all for nothing in return. Throwing my finger to the storm outside, I decide to ignore the disturbance in favor of my favorite activity: sleep.
With a brother like Jace there really wasn’t any point in getting worked up anyway. He’s a natural and will do it for you without even asking. I mute the mental link with my twin and climb back into bed. Dreary days call for immediate naps. It’s not like anything happens here anyway.
Jace
The Outer Wall is finally in range and I can’t help myself, I start scanning it obsessively, anxious to see our gift from The Fates. Gliding above the mist, I can see up and down the wall and but it is as blank as it always is. I glide further and doubleback, too stubborn to entertain the notion that maybe this was a trick of the light and I imagined the whole episode.
On my third pass, I
