A new excerpt of FORECAST (Bk #2 in the Sisters of Fate trilogy.) for the readers at the Summer YA Book Party!
Taran called and asked me to meet him for a late lunch at a fast-food seafood restaurant on Miracle Strip Parkway the next morning. Guess he’d decided to ignore the grounding. I picked out a pair of skinny jeans with a huge red-and-blue sweater—again the colors of protection—then put matching feathers on clips into my hair. The ensemble would all clash with the orange snow boots, but I didn’t really care. Color cheered me.
I was five minutes into the drive when I realized there wouldn’t be a lot more driving—not in my little Neon. The snow had let up the night before but now it fell in sheets. I hoped it didn’t stay like this because I couldn’t imagine how everyone would keep doing the things they needed to do. Get to jobs, schools. I had to drive slowly, and the entire time my hands shook because I was terrified of other vehicles running into me. Cars crammed the parking lots of hotels and grocery stores. I drove past stores with closed signs on the doors. Normally people would be on the sidewalks and streets…on the beaches.
When I finally got to the restaurant, I felt as if I’d been driving for days. I had to park a ways from the entrance because the parking lot was packed.
I opened my car door and swung my legs around to get out, and the wind nearly knocked me back into the car. Snow stabbed at the exposed skin of my face and hands as I pushed my way out of the car and slammed the door. I promptly slipped and grabbed the side mirror, dangling there. The healing wound on my palm stung as I held on to keep from hitting the ground.
A group of kids hurried past me, then stopped. I thought they were going to offer to help me, but the sudden raucous squawks of ravens drowned out even the sound of the wind. Hundreds landed in the parking lot, noisy, stabbing at each other with sharp beaks. The wind grabbed black feathers and drops of red blood, spreading them on the mounds of white in morbid contrasting colors.
A hand grabbed my elbow, lifted me, and I looked up to find Taran had come out. But like everyone else, he watched the birds. It was as if they’d been possessed as they fought each other. I wondered why they hadn’t frozen and died like the flock I’d seen before.
And again I wondered what the ravens were doing in Florida.
The rate their number was growing sent ripples of alarm up my back.
Taran pulled me close to him as some of the birds swarmed around us. One dived toward his face and he batted it away, then wrapped his arm protectively around my head as he walked me across the parking lot.
The scent of fried fish, shrimp and French fries made my mouth water when Taran opened the door. We turned and watched as other people ran toward the restaurant. Then the birds suddenly swarmed into the air in a tornado like formation and flew off.
“That was wild,” Taran muttered. He scowled as someone jostled into us, making me hit the window. Taran pulled me closer. “Hey, dude, watch it.”
The man who’d run into me grimaced. “Sorry. Never saw crows like that before. They freaked me out a bit.” He moved away.
“That’s because they weren’t crows,” I murmured to Taran under my breath.
He looked down at me, lifted an eyebrow.
The noise of the packed restaurant swirled around us. I stood on my toes to get closer to his ear. “Those were ravens, and it isn’t the first time I’ve seen them. They shouldn’t be here.”
“Maybe they’re just flying south, thinking it’s a regular winter—that sort of thing.”
“Maybe,” I said, though in my heart, I knew it was something a little scarier than that. All I could think about were the stories of Ragnarok. The ravens and the wolves.