Read Online Copper Ravens by Jennifer Allis Provost - Free Book Online Page A

could manage to repeat this experiment at a later date and enjoy similar results.
    She wasn’t even that weirded out once we arrived in the clearing before the village, though weirdness certainly abounded. The clearing was innocuous enough, though it bustled with people, Elemental and otherwise, going about their day. A harried woman who reminded me of the Old Woman in the Shoe was herding a group of young fauns toward the schoolhouse, without much success. Carts and deliverymen sped across the clearing, narrowly avoiding collisions. Off to the side, a hawker peddled cold drinks and parasols to shield our delicate skin from the sun. Being that I never managed to tan, I thought his stand was brilliant.
    Beyond the clearing were the village gates, the first official—well, for the village, anyway—station of weird. They were towering masses of organic, living silver, constantly twining together and apart, depending on whether or not you were allowed entry. Footmen stood on either side of the gates, clad in bright silver mail and armed to the teeth. While I’d never seen anyone be refused entry, I sure didn’t want to be on the business end of their spears.
    The footmen immediately recognized my oak leaf and acorn token and bowed. They frickin’ bowed! Sadie was as shocked as I was, but before I could stammer out a “hey, stand up straight!”-themed comment, a doorway swirled into being before us. Sadie eyed the silver walls dubiously but followed me through, anyway. Good for her. Once we’d passed the gate and she saw the village proper, her eyes nearly fell out of her head.
    As with most centers of habitation, there are good parts and bad parts of the Whispering Dell. Unlike most Mundane cities, these two halves are very easily discernible to the naked eye. To our right lay row upon row of brothels, badly-lit pubs, and more than a few criminals masquerading as magicians for hire. The entire path was swathed in a thick, palpable darkness akin to the dense smoke generated by burning soggy leaves, which was just as well. This wasn’t the sort of vista you wanted to see all that clearly.
    In stark, sunny contrast, the path that snaked to our left was carpeted in daisies and bluebells. No, really; as you walked along, inevitably crushing flowers as you meandered down the path, a lovely perfume rose up for your enjoyment. Birds sang, dew sparkled, and the street was lined with maidens seated before the shop fronts, combing out their shining tresses, while minstrels plucked away at their lutes. Truly, the left path seemed like a veritable heaven, and, to my jaded eyes, just a bit too perfect. Give me an honest thief over a simpering two-face any day.
    Having taken a good, long look at our options, my sweet, innocent sister asked, her voice wavering only a bit, about which way Max and I had gone yesterday. “To the right, of course,” I replied. And we were headed to the right today.
    â€œThis must be the wrong way,” Sadie said, clutching my arm as I stepped toward the mass of smoky, stinky fog. “It has to be.”
    â€œShep said that the apothecary was this way,” I said. “It’s just a few doors in.”
    â€œThere isn’t one that way?” she asked, hopefully eyeing the path to the left.
    â€œShep said that the one to the right has a better selection of herbs and stuff.” I tugged at her arm, but she remained rooted in place. “C’mon. We’ve come all this way. We’ll leave as soon as we’re done.”
    At that she relented, and we walked confidently into the darkness. Okay, I walked confidently; Sadie had her fingers wound so tightly around my arm I lost circulation.
    True to Shep’s directions, the apothecary was the fourth shop on the left, situated right along the main way. We stepped—well, I stepped, Sadie was dragged—inside the modest building, which hardly had space for the two of us. Once my eyes