The Madness of Crows: Part Six

ANNIE'S MORTAL FRIENDS, most of whom were older, would instantly shift into protection mode if they knew what was happening. She didn't want that -- they had been through enough. So she went to Absalom Askew, who was used to trouble and actually thrived on it. She rode her bike to Xo's Buffet Banquet and pushed through the black door which led to the upstairs. After tugging her bike into the dingy hall, she loped up the stairs before she lost her nerve.
    As she raised a hand to knock, the door opened and a boy in tattered jeans and a T-shirt appeared and smiled at her. The black T-shirt was scrawled with red, dripping letters: I ____ Vampires. She could hear Tom Waits growling from the stereo.
    "Annie Weaver." Absalom's honey-colored eyes were not a boy's. His scarlet hair glinted as he tilted his head. "What brings you to my door?"
    "I need to speak to the Cailleach Oidche."
    "And what makes you think I'll be allowing that?" The lilt of another time and place slinked through his voice as something ancient moved behind his eyes.
    "They've come as a court of birds. You might want to tell Phouka. Or not."
    "My queen is otherwise occupied. I'll help you, fair girl. Come back before midnight. That is the Cailleach's hour."
***

The Madness of Crows: Part Five

ANNIE STARED AT THE THREE nightmares on the veranda. Having found their way out of the dark, they hadn't quite got it right -- their skin was like alabaster, their eyes the silver of ghostlight. Shadows clung to their eyelashes, their fingers, threaded from their lips. They must be young, Annie thought, for their kind.
    The Empress of Ravens drew closer. "I'm Nadine. The tall one is Krysto. The other's Johnny. Those aren't our real names, of course."
    As Annie drew back into the house, the soles of her Converses squeaking against hardwood, she whispered, "I know what you are."
    "She's got the sight." The tall twin was attempting to sneak himself over the threshold -- a hand, a booted toe. "We should blind her."
    "Go away." Annie, who didn't wear iron or silver, realized they couldn't get over the threshold. They had to follow the rules which kept them in their shapes. "Or I'll tell Absalom you were here."
    The name worked. They retreated.
    "We'll see you around." Nadine, shimmering, turned and sauntered away. "Annie Weaver."
    The Magpie Knights smiled and ambled from the veranda. Silvery dust swept from their moth-pale hair.
    When Annie had been twelve, one of their kind, the crom cu, the crooked dog, had murdered her sister. But they weren't all bad, the Fatas, the children of nothing and night.
   She knew a few.