“Your ties with the dead were eternal the moment you pricked yourself on the bone and sealed it with the blood.” Nabbing her cane propped against the fence, she hobbled toward a small stable, and pondering her words, I followed after her. “What do the dead have to do with the raven?” “They guide the soul to the after, and you share its blood now,” she explained, shoving barley straw into a netted bag. “You walk between realms of the dead and living. The world you’ve known, and the one that has remained hidden from you.”
