Unspoken Magic


 
 
 Map
 
 
 Dedication
 To s. e., for being one of Aldermere’s founders
 and a dear friend
 
 
 
 One
 A Tale of Two Vans
 The day the film crew arrived, Finley Barnes was trying to teach a raven to play fetch.
 Late-afternoon sunlight slanted through the redwood trees, casting long shadows through the forest. Fin stood at the edge of the woods in her aunt’s backyard, holding a ramekin of sliced hard-boiled egg. The raven perched on the garage roof and peered down at Fin with keen dark eyes.
 “Coin,” Fin said. The quarter flashed between her thumb and forefinger. Ravens liked shiny things, so surely this was a decent lure. She tossed the quarter into the grass. The lawn was overgrown, studded with dandelions and gopher holes. Aunt Myrtle had been making noises about cutting it, but no one was eager to brave the cobwebs surrounding the old push mower.
 Fin pointed at the coin, which gleamed silver in the grass. “Fetch.”
 Six months ago, Fin had helped Morrigan the raven after an injury, and ever since, the raven had regarded her as a friend. Morri would visit, and Fin would offer a small snack or neck scratches. In thanks, Morri left small trinkets on Fin’s windowsill. Fin’s growing collection consisted of a piece of blue sea glass, two paper clips, a silver unicorn charm, four metal beads, and someone’s spare house key.
 “Fetch,” said Fin, a little pleadingly. Morri had done this a few times, but never on command.
 Morri cocked her head, gaze darting between the hard-boiled egg and the spot where the coin had landed. She spread her wings, and Fin’s breath caught in anticipation. Morri leaped into the air . . . and then she made a dive for the bowl of egg in Fin’s hand.
 Fin let out a yelp and ducked, the ramekin tumbling from her fingers. She wasn’t afraid of Morri, but a raven’s sudden descent would startle anyone. Tiny speckles of yolk and chunks of white scattered amid the grass.
 The raven fell upon the food as if she hadn’t eaten for weeks.
 Fin rose from her crouch, scowling at the bird. “You’re supposed to work for that.”
 Eddie Elloway burst into laughter. He was perched atop the hood of Aunt Myrtle’s old Ford Fiesta, his legs crisscrossed beneath him. He’d been half-heartedly prodding at his math homework.
 “She did fetch,” Eddie said, in between gasps of laughter. “She fetched all the egg.”
 “Yeah, yeah,” said Fin. But she smiled. It was impossible to feel mad on the Friday before spring break. The trees overhead rustled with a breeze, and the spicy smell of redwood needles was pleasant on the air. The afternoon was warm enough that Fin had rolled up her sleeves, enjoying the sunlight on her forearms. “Why don’t you try? You’re better with animals than anyone I know.”
 “I only use my powers for good,” said Eddie, flashing her a grin. “And sorry, but teaching your raven to find you spare change isn’t on the list.”
 Fin knew it was supposed to be a joke, but sometimes she wasn’t all that sure her cousin didn’t have some power over animals. He’d always been good with them, rescuing snails from sidewalks and catching lizards for their science fair project. He always knew what they were feeling or where to put them so they could go home. It could have been Eddie’s innate instinct.
 Or it could have been something more. Because in the town of Aldermere, that was a possibility.
 Morri finished gobbling up the egg. Then she spread her wings and took to the air, flying over Aunt Myrtle’s house, referred to as the big house. The raven alighted on the roof, peering toward the middle of town.
 “Come on,” Fin called after the bird. “We only tried the fetch trick once. I’ve got another egg.”
 Morri ignored her. She tilted her head back and forth, fluffed up her feathers indignantly, and then flew toward town.
 “Where are you going?” said Fin.
 The raven didn’t answer, of course.
 Eddie shut his textbook and slid off the car. He stared after Morri, a line between his brows. “What is it?” said Fin.
 Eddie’s frown deepened. “She turned down food. That’s weird.”
 Leaving his homework on the car, Eddie walked around the big house. Fin gave the forgotten textbook and multiplication problems a worried glance. If the wind didn’t blow them away, the other ravens might decide to steal them. The birds had a habit of getting into mischief. Hurriedly, Fin picked up the papers, shoved them into Eddie’s math book, and crammed it under her arm.
 Eddie stood in the front yard. “She flew toward Main Street. What could be more interesting than food?”
 Aunt Myrtle’s home was on the northwest side of town, where the redwood forest brushed up against the houses and yards. Aldermere was small enough that it only took a few minutes to get to Main Street. Eddie took a shortcut up a gravel alleyway and came out on a sidewalk cracked by tree roots.
 “Slow down,” called Fin. She still had Eddie’s homework under her arm, and sweat trickled down her side. Then she caught sight of the strange car.
 A van rolled up Main Street. It was white and orange, with a bright logo printed across the door.
 “Is that a—” Eddie began to say.
 “Moving van.” Fin squinted at it. “I used to see them a lot when I lived down south. We couldn’t afford one, and we didn’t have enough stuff, anyways. But you’d see them everywhere.”
 “Moving van,” repeated Eddie, mulling over the words. “New neighbors?”
 “Or they’re trying to find the gas station and got lost,” said Fin. Aldermere didn’t get a lot of new residents. It was mostly retirees, a few families, and several vacation homes. Not a lot of people wanted to live in the isolation of the Northern California redwoods.
 “Let’s