Woods of the Raven Read Online Mary Calmes

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, M-M Romance, Magic, Paranormal Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
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It was traumatizing and without rational context. There were podcasts about those kinds of disappearances, books, movies, and still people looked for logical, reasonable explanations. The thing was, for us magical folk, the cause was simple—it was a tear. Or worse, a slip.

A slip functioned much like a tear: you moved out of your dimension and into another, but the difference was, it was a trap. There was only one way in and one way out. If you wanted to leave, you had to know precisely where you’d entered. If you couldn’t find your way out, this space between realms became a cage. At the moment, I was stuck. I had no idea where my exit was because I had no idea when, precisely, I’d crossed through. I hadn’t walked that far, but it was hard to say from what direction. I was standing someplace that was and yet was not Osprey, but if I could go back the way I came, retrace my exact steps, I could walk right back out near my stall at the fair. The issue was not to lose my bearings, which I already had, and now it was vital not to venture any deeper into the slip. So I stood there, frozen, trying to remember which way I’d come from.

The sound of leaves crunching behind me was not welcome. Adding to my growing trepidation, clouds had rolled in, the sky getting darker by the second.

Things that shouldn’t have been frightening, suddenly were. Long shadows, the seemingly changeable patterns of the birch trees, and the way the wind had died, rooted me to the spot. Strangely, I knew that if I turned, whatever was there, near me, lurking just out of sight, would appear out of thin air. Any way I chose to step, it would be on me. So instead, I remained still and waited, closing my eyes, listening.

Words were being spoken in a whisper, on the breeze, and when I opened my eyes, I saw something moving through the birch trees, like looking through a slatted fence as you were walking, seeing pieces of something but not the whole.

The hair on my nape stood up as I realized that being far away from my land, and without the ability to call on my ancestors, I was screwed. I didn’t make a sound, though, didn’t give voice to my dread, instead swallowing down my fear. Acknowledging something gave it power. A witch knew better.

To fight, I had to see, so holding out my right hand, palm up, I called on the elements to light my way. Instantly, flames engulfed my hand, making my fingertips tingle. In every dimension, big or small, and even in a slip, one thing remained universal, and that was the elements. There was always water and fire, earth and air, and when a witch called, they answered.

“Thank you,” I whispered, and felt a gentle breeze on my face before flames leaped from my palm and flew through the air, illuminating all the dark spots, showing me the creature leaning away from one of the birch trees, slowly emerging from it like a nice piece of CGI in a horror movie. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I groaned, more angry than scared now. It was another vargr.

In moments, there was a second, rising from the ground, leaves sliding off its back as the aberration took shape.

A third came from deeper in the woods, stalking nearer. Clearly, whoever had sent them wasn’t taking any chances. They had tried sending one the first time, along with the creature who’d threatened me. This time, there were three, and no one was going to give me a monologue about death, mainly mine. Instead, they’d sent what they thought would be enough vargrs to get to the heart of the matter. I was going to die.

“The hell are you doing?” Chief—Lorne—shit—roared, charging toward me.

“Stop,” I screamed, and he froze where he was. “Don’t come any closer.”

“Holy shit,” he gasped, pulling his gun. “The fuck is happening?”

I didn’t give him any more direction, just ran toward him, knowing he was firmly grounded where I wanted to be.

The slip, the trap that had been set, was not made for him. Someone not magical could not be caught in one anyway. Could he walk through a dimensional tear? Absolutely. Millions of people did with dire results. But a slip, he couldn’t enter, and so all I needed was to reach him. Where he was standing, looking both terrified and angry, represented safety, and I sprinted to reach him like my life depended on it, which it absolutely did.

He didn’t shoot, he couldn’t or he’d hit me, and though I could hear the vargrs snarling behind me, they weren’t close enough for me to feel their breath on my skin.

Diving at the last moment, I tackled Lorne hard, and the two of us tumbled down together into the leaves and grass.


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