The Raven

The author of this book is solely responsible for the accuracy of all facts and statements contained in the book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in an entirely fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2023 by Level 4 Press, Inc. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. This book is printed on acid-free paper. Published by: Level 4 Press, Inc. 14702 Haven Way Jamul, CA 91935 www.level4press.com Library of Congress Control Number: 2019943916 ISBN: 9781933769714 Printed in the United States of America. Other books byDANI LAMIA Scavenger Hunt 666 Gable Way DEDICATION To my teachers, who encourage me; my friends, who cheer me on; and my parents, whose unconditional love inspires me. Table of Contents Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Epilogue PROLOGUE The manor loomed empty but for eight-year-old Beka and the Raven. The creature called the Raven made no sound at all, save for the faint rustling of fabric. Few sounds filtered into the aged wood-paneled hall: distant crowing calls, intermittent scratches against the exterior walls, and the skittering of insects as they fled from the pittering claps of Beka’s bare feet on the cold marble floor. She slipped through the gathered dust, slid into an ornate foyer, and caught herself on the pillar of a rattling banister. The wood broke with a dry crack, raining twisted splinters into her black curls. Beka glanced back, face hot, glimpsing the hazy form of the Raven—like a shadow racing toward her, sweeping silently closer with each pounding heartbeat. A hairline crack in the wall beside her revealed a secret door, and she tore it open, slipped into the dark passageway beyond, lungs burning from her held breath as she pulled it shut behind her, then peered out through a tiny eye in the wood. The shadow skimmed past her hiding place, darkness blotting out the spare light from the dusty windows, then vanished. Beka covered her mouth but failed to keep her giggles from escaping. The passage was too narrow for her to spread out her arms, and the short walls didn’t allow for any light. Blindly she bumped into grimy corners and stumbled over the shredded, threadbare rug, the alien pull of the spiderweb tugging at the edges of her skin and straining against her leaf-patterned nightgown. She careened around a corner and pushed through the half-eaten drapes covering the next doorway. A hole in the wall revealed a reptilian face, ghastly green in the dying moonlight, mouth open in a fanged hiss. Terror froze her to the spot until she realized it was a stuffed serpent. Harmless. Beka ducked around the creature and stumbled deeper into what had once been some macabre office, the scent of decay and rotting upholstery heavy in the air. Glassy eyes of decapitated animals followed her every move from their mounts on the peeling walls. She tripped over the shifting folds of the bearskin rug and spilled into a cavernous fireplace, narrowly missing the spearpoint legs of the iron basket protruding from the ash. Crrreeaaakkk. Another doorway opened, different from the one she’d entered, hidden behind mottling cloth and set beneath the gaping maw of a moose. Beka recognized the silhouette of the Raven and scrambled to conceal herself in the recesses of the wide fireplace. Her back hit the rough stone, and several bricks came loose. Eager to escape, to keep their game of hide and seek going, she shoved against them until they gave way, opening a tiny crawlspace barely big enough for her. Beka pulled herself into the strange little tunnel, glancing back long enough to see her pursuer framed by a room of sharp teeth and open jaws. The Raven belonged there, a human-shaped shadow but for two pinpricks of enduring light reflecting from its eyes. The dreams were always like that: part video game adventure, part horror show. Beka stuck her tongue out at it and scurried away with another giggle. Based on the Raven’s size, it couldn’t fit in her crawlspace, but she spied it between the cracks in the wall, looming in the rooms and corridors surrounding her, waiting, watching, whether as a passing shadow or as a still shape peering back at her. As she wriggled through the tight, winding space, her nose itched from the musky scent of ash on her clothes and hair, but she couldn’t stop to scratch it. Finally, Beka found a room without the shadow’s looming figure and broke the rotting planks to crawl out from between their claw-like edges. She climbed to her feet, bedraggled and covered with spots of ash and dust, and stared at the empty library surrounding her. A glass dome crouched distantly above, slicing a beam of moonlight into ironwork crosshatches that fell through tall rows of empty, cobwebbed bookshelves. A decrepit painting hung over a bone-cold fireplace, three mismatched armchairs faced a wide foggy window, and dark corners collected spiderwebs and triangular shadows. Against one wooden wall, curtained by streams of hanging dust, sat a dark wooden desk. Thickly built, with cloven feet and floral designs at each corner, only one item rested on its surface—a heavy leather-bound tome untouched by age. A blood-red silhouette embossed the black cover along with the book’s title. The Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe. Beka picked it up and then stumbled back under its weight. A signature scrawled across the inside front cover and a handwritten note slipped from between the