The Survivors: Body & Blood (book 3)

Spy Games, pt. 2

WHEN I GOT BACK TO THE HOTEL, EVERETT WAS GONE, AND SADIE WAS SITTING in the main room, the Pretty-shield book's spine cracked in her hands. She'd probably read it fifty times.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

"Getting supplies. Where's Everett?" I asked.

She turned around to face me. "You knew he was here?"

"Oh . . . yeah . . ." I stumbled. "I heard you guys talking on my way out."

"Why didn't you stop in to say hi to him? Or tell me you were going out?"

I kidded to deflect. "The door was closed. What if you were naked?"

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the window. "So what did you procure?"

I laughed. Procure. Sometimes nineteenth century Sadie showed through. "No, no. You first. What the hell is in that book?"

"Oh, you know," she shrugged, "just the run-of-the-mill back story on where Alexander Raven likely came from a few thousand years ago. Did you know that archaeological evidence suggests that people have been in the Flathead Valley region near Bigfork for seven thousand years?"

"Can't say that I did," I said. "That's in there?"

"No, this is Frank Linderman writing down the autobiography of Pretty-shield as she told it to him. She was a medicine woman, a pretty powerful one, who was old enough to remember a time before they went onto reservations, even though Linderman interviewed her and wrote this in the 20s."

"So you're holding the oldest first-hand account of the Crow tribe in existence," I reasoned.

"So it seems."

"What makes you think that Raven was a Crow?" I asked, and as I said it, I heard it. "Ravens . . . Crows . . . interesting. What's the difference between a raven and a crow?"

"I'm glad you asked, because I wondered the same thing. They're both of the Corvus genus, though they are different species. Ravens are much larger than crows, and they make different sounds and such, but they're otherwise very similar. And just for fun, I found this lovely book online called Ravens in Winter that pretty much says it best." She opened her iPad and read from it, ""Given the tendency of corvids to be large, intelligent, adaptable, ground-foraging birds independent of trees, it is probably only a slight exaggeration to say that the raven (Corvus corax) is the ultimate corvid. If so, it is also at the top of the most species-rich and rapidly evolving line of the birds.' Oh and also this fun sentiment: "If you hear something in the forest you cannot identify, it's probably a raven.'"

"Do you think it was a coincidence he named himself that?"

"I doubt it," she said. "As I understand it, Ravens are a prevalent creature in many indigenous creation myths, but not the Crows. That's probably why his being named Raven wasn't on my radar of potential connections to the man himself, but here we are. Do I think it's a coincidence that he named himself the thing closest to a crow but just slightly superior? No, not at all. But it could be. This, however," she said, holding up the book, "has a little more concrete evidence. Do you remember what Abigail said when Alexander pulled her out of the McDonald's?"

"Let's see," I said. ""Sadie, don't let him take you! Look for the arrows. And Red Woman. And the Pretty Girl! He think's I'm her, but I'm not! And tell everyone I'm sorry! Lizzie, especially. Tell her I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do what I did! He tricked me! He tricked me!"

"I thought you couldn't remember things verbatim like I can," she said.

"The siblings can't. I can," I smiled. "So let's break down the ominous message. "Arrows, Red Woman, graveyards, Pretty Girl."