A/N: The excerpt about the Common Raven was taken by:

Tekiela, Stan. Birds of Michigan: Field Guide. Cambride, MN: Adventure Publications, Inc., 1996. 15-16. Print. (In MLA format), which I don't own

Chapter 2: A Trip to the North

I woke up on the bus, just like Hecate had said. It was exactly as I remembered it. There was the same burnt rubber smell, the same drab color of the seats, the same couple kissing in the back, and the exact same noise. There was only one problem; I could barely hear the voices. It was as if it was as if everyone was talking underwater. They even looked like they were underwater. "Selena, Selena. SELENA! Are you there?'" It was my friend Xenon. Even though we just met when we started middle school, we were very close. We both were social outcasts, but we had each others' backs. I looked up at her and blinked. I could see her dirty blond hair, her nicely tanned skin, even her stormy gray eyes which were filled with concern. "Again, Selena, Are you there?" she asked.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine," I responded with withdrawn interest. "I just zoned out for a bit."

"A bit?" she said with a laugh. "You've been like this all day, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. What was that you wanted to say?"

"I asked what you were doing for the summer, but obviously you are a bit preoccupied," She said with a sniffle. Then she turned and smiled.

"Oh, I don't know. I might be going to a summer camp this summer, but I am not so sure. What about you?" She shrugged. Her family didn't really do much for the summer. This was probably because her family wasn't big on money. Then it hit me, "Hey, why do you come with us Up North this summer?"
Her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, then darkened like the timer just went off. "What about my dad? He'll want me to stay close. No, I don't think I could do it." It made sense. Her father, from what I gathered, was not that pleasant. He was abusive and a drug-addict ever since her mother had disappeared. You could tell that she wanted to get away, she just couldn't.

"Fine, we'll ask for you. If he says yes, whoopee! You can go. If not, well he doesn't want you to go."

It got silent after that, and it stayed that way throughout the rest of the ride. When it reached my stop, I turned and hugged her goodbye. Walking home was no problem; it was almost as if nothing had happened. Did it really happen? Putting my hands in my pockets, I then heard a paper crackle. I then pulled out the map that Hecate had given me. Ohmigod! This was real! I started running home, my backpack thumping against me. If demigods were real, did it mean that my dad was still alive? I needed to talk him. But how could I do that?

I entered my house and ran towards my mom's spice cabinet. I was looking for something, like, myrrh or some other death-related spice, no such luck. Crap! Why can't my mom ever do what I want? I thought. Hey where was my mom?

I headed out to her herb garden in the back, not there. I looked in her room to see if she had a nap. Nope, she wasn't there, either. Then I looked downstairs, she wasn't there either. As I slowly climbed up the stairs, something huge and black thumped against a window.

I ran outside to see what had almost broken our window and gasped. It was a raven, as black and ragged as I'd seen. Taking it inside, I thought why it'd be here. Ravens never went as far south as Detroit, did they?

I put the unconscious bird onto a towel and ran to my pit of a room. Going through my books, I found the one that I was looking for, Birds of Michigan, one of my favorite books. Here's what it said:

"Common Raven (corvus corax)

Size: 22-27" (59-69 cm)

Range: All of Upper Peninsula and the Northern half Lower Peninsula

Male: Large all-black bird with a large black bill, a shaggy beard of feathers on the chin and throat, and a large wedge-shaped tail, seen in flight.

Female: Same as male

Juvenile: Same as adult….

Migration: Non-migrator to partial migrator….

Compare: Larger than its cousin, the American Crow, which lacks the throat patch of feathers…. Low, raspy call distinguishes Raven from the higher-pitched Crow. (Here are some links so you can hear the calls: .org/guide/American_Crow/id#similar, .org/guide/Common_Raven/id)"

The rest was useless information, but it did help me identify the poor bird. It matched plenty of the ID points, but why would it be this far south? I wouldn't be migrating, and no landfills are nearby. I started to examine it. Its wings weren't broken, and it didn't seem to have any head injuries. I also comb its feathers for parasites, none. Hmm… this is odd. Then it opened its eyes.

*Croak!* it seemed to be trying to tell me something. *Croak* it did it again. "What do you need?" I asked. It scratched its claws on the towel. There no way I was going to talk to it. Unless….

Quickly I ran back downstairs to grab some old modeling clay. When I got back to the table, I made several small tablets for the bird to scratch. As if it recognized its chance it went to work on the clay. As it finished the first tablet, it hopped onto the next one. It finished and stared at me. I thought it was hungry, so I gave it some sunflower seeds. As it nibbled at the seeds, I read the tablets, which read:

Selena,

I'm sorry I had to send my familiar to you. Go to the camp, I know where it is. Seek out your friend, Xenon, she will help you. Please do not worry about me, I'm in good hands. When all is said and done, I will try to come to you. I know what happened this morning; I wish I could help more. Take my familiar, Odin. He will help as well. Hurry!

I read and re-read the scratched out letters. What was going on? How could I get to the camp when it is in the Upper Peninsula? Tears welled up in my eyes. Odin then pecked at my arm and danced around the table, knocking off all the tablets. When he was done, he flew to my shoulder. "Well, at least she gave me you," I told him. *Croak!* Then I had an idea. "Will you be my familiar?" Odin bobbed his head in reply.

At least one thing went my way today, I thought to myself, smiling. Now how do you familiarize an animal? As if the bird read my mind, he flew into the kitchen and brought out a tiny book, a pot, some water and a minuscule piece of paper. I read the book and got to work.

Following the books instructions, I poured the water into the pot. Next I wrote both my name and Odin's onto the paper in red ink (it was either that or blood). Putting that into the water, I then set to boil. There was one last thing the spell required to make it work, but I was too squeamish to do it…

Then Odin came in and hopped onto the table. *Croak!* "Yeah, I know I have to put a drop of my blood and yours, but I just can't. That's disgusting." Then the large, ragged raven did something really weird.

It lunged at my hand and was trying to make me bleed. I knocked the bird to the floor with the back of my hand. As the blood rushed out of its skull, I suddenly felt guilt. How could I abuse this poor bird?
Quickly, I let some of the blood pour into the pot. Then as it simmered, I bandaged the raven's head. I then took a pin and stabbed my finger. The dark-red drops of blood joined the mixture. Stir, girl, stir! It started to boil and turn black. As the book said, I left it to cool.

Somehow, it didn't taste bad. Actually, it tasted slightly bitter, like dark chocolate. Then I rushed to the raven and rubbed the black liquid onto the head wound. It fizzed, like I just placed hydrogen perioxide. As the fizz died done, I was amazed to find that the wound was closed. Odin then popped back up like perky chick. He croaked, but instead of the familiar croak, I heard "Now that that is over, can we go now? No, let's eat first." I freaked.