12 March, 1770
River Run, North Carolina
ARCHIE POV
One for sorrow,
Two for mirth;
Three for a wedding,
Four for a birth.
Five for silver,
Six for gold;
Seven for a secret never to be told.
Eight for a wish,
Nine for a kiss,
Ten for a bird you should never miss.
Eleven for health,
Twelve for wealth…
Thirteen - beware the devil himself…
It was a cold winter's day, but spring was on the horizon. Some of the birds and the squirrels had awoken from their wintry slumbers like the larks that tapped on the windows at dawn. The nightingales were fooled by the lengthening days, so they came out at high noon thinking dusk was just around the corner. Archie was on a walk with Clara around the grounds, as she wanted to join him while he went to supervise any business that Auntie Jocasta otherwise would, and once they were finished, she wanted to walk along the river. It was getting cold and close to tea time, so Archie wanted to get his wife back inside to the warmth of the house, but something stopped him.
There, sitting on the roof of the house on the side where the bedchamber that Brèagha and Maevis had been sharing as of late, was a single corbie. One for sorrow…
"Archie? Are you all right? You're as white as snow," Clara asked him, noticing that Archie seemed alarmed by the presence of the corbie, and then she looked at what had captured his attention. "Oh, a crow," she said calmly. "I guess all the birds are starting to come back."
"Aye," said Archie softly, not removing his eyes from the ill omen that perched over his sisters.
"Are you all right, darling?" Clara asked him with a small chuckle. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Don't tell me you believe in that story that crows bring misfortune?"
"It isnae just a story, Clara," Archie said to her firmly. "The corbies… They're omens of death. Long believed te be so, and associated wi' the Celtic goddess of war and death."
"But that's just silly, there's only one God, and he doesn't send crows to say that something bad is going to happen," she said, completely brushing off his concerns.
"Aye, I thought so once, too," he said, not taking his eyes off of the corbie. "Go inside, Clara. I'll be in in a moment." She scoffed lightly.
"Leave the bird alone, Archie," she said, and he turned his head and gave her a single firm look without uttering a word, and she sighed softly. "All right. Just don't do something foolish." She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek and then went inside, and once the door was closed, Archie turned his attention back to the corbie, which still sat menacingly on the roof. It cawed, then seemed to lock eyes with Archie. He pulled out the pistol that he kept on his belt and took off his tricorn hat, so as not to impede his aim. This is important. Ye must kill that corbie. Ye cannae miss. if ye fire and miss, it'll be frightened away, and the misfortune it has brought with it will remain. Ye cannae miss… He closed one eye to sharpen his aim, and when he believed he had the corbie in his sight, he fired, and the corbie let out a single sharp croak and fell from the roof. He had hit the corbie - remarkably, considering his aim was shite - and now, he had to burn it. He retrieved the bleeding body of the bird and looked up at the sky, taking note that the clouds were getting dark and heavy. Snow was on the way. Wasn't that too cold for corbies? Archie needed answers, and he needed them fast. Where was Granny when he needed her? He hadn't seen her in months!
The summoning ritual… A couple of years ago, she had taught him the summoning ritual for him to perform if he needed her and she wasn't around.
"What ye must do is draw a circle on the ground wi' a five point pentagram inside usin' the charcoal. Then, ye must sprinkle the salt around the outer rim of the circle. Place a single candle at each point of the pentagram and sprinkle a ring of salt around each of the five candles."
That was easy, all he needed to do was get charcoal from Brèagha and salt and candles inside. Would tallow work, or did they have to be beeswax? They would be whatever the hell he could get his hands on. He hid the dead corbie underneath the stairs of the porch so it wouldn't be found, made a noise of disgust at the blood on his hand before wiping it off on his trousers, and went inside to fetch the items needed.
Once he had what he needed, he went deep into the woods, where he wouldn't be found. He laid the basket of candles, salt and charcoal on the ground and laid the dead corbie beside it, then took the charcoal and did his best to draw a circle of charcoal on the ground. It was hard to do because it was dirt, but after an extended period of time, he had a basic outline of a circle. It wasn't a perfect circle, but he was sure that wouldn't matter. Next was the pentagram, which was a little easier, but it was lopsided because the circle wasn't perfect. A fox had made an attempt to steal his corbie and he shooed it off, but the corbie was now laying on the candles in the basket. Archie let out a groan and moved the corbie, then grabbed the candles, which now had small specks of the dead corbie's blood on them, and placed them at each of the points of the pentagram. Next, he took the salt and sprinkled it around the rim of the circle, and then around each of the candles - although he ran out of salt before he reached the fifth candle. Damn it, it'll just have to do. He lit a sixth candle using the lantern he had brought and went around lighting the five candles. Now, did he have to stand inside of the circle or out of it? "If ye have carnelian, place that at the center of the circle but if no', ye standin' there will be fine." He stood in the circle, looking up at the sky. He could scarcely see the moonlight behind the thick clouds, so he sighed and closed his eyes as he tried to picture only his grandmother. "Then ye must repeat these words, but take care when sayin' 'em, because ye may no' be summonin' me." Take care with the words…
"Hear these words… hear my cry… spirits from the other side. Come te me, I summon thee. Cross now the Great Divide," he said carefully, and he waited a moment before opening his eyes, but nothing happened. He sighed, then repeated the phrase. "Hear these words, hear my cry, spirits from the other side. Come te me, I summon thee. Cross now the Great Divide." Still nothing. He huffed heavily, then spoke louder, clearer, and with more authority: "Hear these words, hear my cry, spirits from the other side. Come te me, I summon thee. Cross now the Great Divide!" A sharp, cold wind suddenly blew out all of the candles around him. Archie gasped softly and spun around in a circle to see if Granny had appeared, but there was no one there. "Damn it… Damn storm comin'." He left the circle, almost tripping over one of the candles and kicking it over the circle, and then he picked it up and set it back in place. He relit the candles, then stood in the circle again and let out a firm huff. "Let's try this one more time, otherwise, I'm a damned fool…" He closed his eyes and let out a breath of air, clearing his mind as he pictured his grandmother. "Hear these words… hear my cry… spirits from the other side. Come te me, I summon thee. Cross now the Great Divide." Anything? Slowly, he opened his eyes.
"Archie!"
"Agh!" Archie cried, nearly jumping out of his skin, and he turned around to see Granny standing behind him, an alarmed expression on her face. "Granny!"
"Archie, what have ye done?" Granny asked him with urgency.
"The summonin' ritual ye taught me," Archie told her, confusion laced in his voice.
"What's that on the candles?" she asked him, and Archie looked down at them to see the blood specks from the corbie on them.
"Oh, wee bit of corbie's blood, I think," he said.
"Corbie's blood?" Granny asked him, and Archie looked at her to see the terrified expression on her face. His own expression faded as he realised that he may have made a grave mistake when performing the summoning ritual.
"What did I do?" he asked softly.
"I don't know," Granny told him honestly. "I think ye might have opened a door… Ye must close it, quickly!"
"How do I do that?" Archie demanded of her.
"Put out the candles! And say 'Spirits that have come te me, I banish thee back from whence thee came'!" Granny told him.
"But willnae that send you back? I need te speak wi' ye'!"
"Just do it!" Granny snapped at him.
"Damn it!" Archie exclaimed, and then he went around the circle blowing out all the candles. "Spirits that have come te me, I banish thee back from whence thee came!" There was silence, and Archie turned to look back at where Granny had been standing and let out a huff. "What am I supposed te do now?"
"All right, everrathin' is all right, I think," said Granny suddenly, startling Archie again.
"Stop doin' that!" Archie snapped at her with frustration.
"Well, I cannae control where I appear! It isnae my fault that it always happens te be behind ye," she said defensively. "Now what's goin' on? Why did ye try and summon me?"
"Actually, you tell me where the hell ye've been! It's been months since I saw ye last!" Archie said back to her.
"Has it? Och, time passes differently in the Other World," she said to him. "That, and there's been a blockage. I dinnae ken how exactly, but no one's been able te pass through since Samhain."
"But I saw Grandsire in December, before Yule," Archie said to her, and she seemed very surprised by this.
"Ye saw yer grandsire? Archie?" she asked him, and he shook his head.
"No, my great grandsire. Eairdsidh Ruadh," Archie told her, and this seemed to alarm her. She looked at him with an expression that Archie could only describe as disbelief, mixed with concern.
"Ye couldnae have," she told him. "Yer great grandsire wasnae a traveller. He would only be able te pass through the veil on Samhain and Beltane. When did ye see him?"
"I dinnae ken. Early December, the night before I fought in a duel," Archie said to her.
"Not even on a sabbat?" she asked, and then she paced about with distress. "Och, no, no… This is bad. This is verra bad," she muttered to herself.
"Granny, what are ye on aboot?" Archie demanded from her, and she stopped in her tracks.
"The man ye saw the night before this… duel… Which ye must tell me aboot that later. Ye fought in a damn duel? Och, forget aboot it. That isnae important. The man ye saw the night before this duel was not yer great grandsire," Granny told him. "It was a cruth-chaochladair. A shapeshifter." Archie's eyes widened, and he sat down on the ground to contain himself.
"Christ… What… What's goin' on?" Archie asked her softly.
"I dinnae ken, but 'tis darkness, fer certain," Granny told him. "When Hy-Brasil fell, the darker residents of the isle that resided exclusively there needed a place te go. They took over the Other World, but the Morrígan battled them fer her realm te protect all of us who reside there and won. She banished them te their own dark realm, locked away in the hopes that they would remain permanently. They couldnae reach the veil. But somethin' happened. I dinnae ken if they grew stronger or if someone on the outside assisted them… but they escaped, and now, the spiritual world is at war."
"What does this mean fer us?" Archie asked her, and Granny let out a small sigh.
"I dinnae ken," she told him honestly. "The spiritual realm is doin' what it can te protect the livin' realm. Tha's why the doors have all been shut."
"And I just opened it," Archie said with a huff.
"And ye closed it right away," Granny told him.
"But ye came back," Archie said, looking up at her. "How do I ken yer not one of these cruth-chaochladair?"
"Because when I lived, I possessed the Morrìgan's Gift, and now that you possess it, I'm te serve as yer spirit guide, te make sure ye dinnae accidentally open another door," Granny told him. "Archie, ye must be careful. The people ye see from now on… they might not be who they are. The cruth-chaochladair are clever. They can hack into yer memories and project themselves as someone ye think yer seein'. Tha's why that one was yer grandsire."
"So how do I know if I'm lookin' at a spirit or a shapeshifter?" Archie asked her as she knelt down beside him, and for a moment, she didn't answer.
"Ye don't," she said. "'Tis impossible te tell."
"That's just wonderful," Archie said irritably, letting out a firm huff. Granny didn't say anything for a moment as she took in their surroundings.
"Why do ye have a dead corbie, anyway?" Granny asked him.
"I saw it sittin' on the roof above my sisters' bedchamber," Archie answered her. "They're wi' child and due te have their bairns at any time. I couldnae chance it."
"Aye, 'tis a bad sign when a corbie appears around a birth," said Granny. "But this one might hae been a good sign, wee lamb… The Morrígan kens ye've come into possession of her gift. She might have sent it as a sign te let ye ken she's protectin' ye."
"Well, how was I supposed te know that when no one's even around te explain it te me?" Archie demanded from her.
"Ye couldnae, and I understand that," Granny told him. "Is that why ye tried te summon me?" Archie nodded softly. "Have no fear, wee lamb. No one will be dyin' today, not in this house. Yer sisters have the protection of the Morrígan. Just, if ye can… sneak a wee feather from the corbie beneath their pillows." Archie glanced at the dead corbie on the ground, then nodded softly.
"All right," he said. "Thank ye fer explainin' that te me."
"And if ye need me again…" Granny began, but trailed off. "Put a candle in the window. Dinnae do the summonin' ritual anymore, all right? We cannae have any more doors opened."
"All right," said Archie, nodding. "Thank-" He looked up at her, but she was already gone. He let out an irritated huff. Put the corbie's feathers underneath their pillows… That wasn't going to be difficult at all. He collected his candles and rubbed out the circle as best as he could, hiding it with leaves so someone wouldn't see it and think there was a devil worshiper about, and then he plucked a few feathers from the dead corbie and resorted to burning the rest of the remains. The incoming snow would smother the flames.
It was late now, possibly past midnight, meaning it was the thirteenth - an unlucky day. At least it wasn't a Friday. As Archie walked alone in the dark, he hummed the melody of an old Scottish folk song called 'Twa Corbies' before softly singing the lyrics:
"As I was walkin' a' alane,
I heard twa corbies makin' a mane.
The tane untae the tither did say,
'Whaur sail we gang and dine the day-o?'
'Whaur sail we gang and dine the day?'
It's in ahint yon auld frail dyke,
I wot there lies a new slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there
But his hawk and hound, and lady fair-o.
But his hawk and hound, and lady fair…"
He approached the house, and on the roof was another corbie, and it cawed when it saw Archie approach. He nodded to it, silently giving thanks to the Morrìgan for her protection. "Sorry I shot yer other corbie," he said softly. When he entered through the door, Clara was coming down the stairs with an empty bowl, and Archie raised a brow curiously at her. "What's goin' on? Is everrathin' all right?" he asked. Had something passed through the door after all?
"Brèagha's gone into labour," Clara said calmly, and Archie's eyes widened with shock.
