The Fox & Dragon

::C h a p t e r T w o::

M O R G A N

I have this reoccurring nightmare where I'm free-falling through the air, and I see the ground below. I tumble through the air, knowing I will hit the frozen ground and die in a few seconds. I spread my arms open, quietly accepting my fate. Then as I'm about to hit the ground, an angel appears above me with bright golden wings. He is reaching for me, and just as I'm about to reach back, my alarm goes off.

I sit up and rub an imaginary pain in the back of my head. There's a twenty-centimetre scar hidden beneath my waves of red hair from my head surgery. The back of my skull had been badly smashed up, so the surgeon removed part of it and replaced it with a metal plate.

I always wondered if that dream had some connection with what happened that night four years ago. I wondered if an angel really did try to rescue me.

I got out of bed and threw on my fluffy rainbow onesie. The downside of living in a three-hundred-year-old pub was no insulation or central heating. The building was heated with a few electric heaters (that were too far expensive to run all the time) and fires.

The main fireplace was located in the bar area downstairs. It was a beautiful stone fireplace that had warmed the patrons of the Fox & Dragon for the past three centuries. It was my job every morning to go downstairs, sweep out the ash from the previous fire, and then build a new fire for today.

I crept down the stairs and switched the lights on in the main bar. It was still pitch black outside as the sun wasn't due to rise for another three hours. So I set to work on the fire gathering the newspaper and kindling that I needed.

I padded across the freezing flagstones with a bucket and brush in hand. There was a mountain of ash that would need to be swept away before I could start building the new fire. However, when I got to the fireplace, something small and feathery lay dead on top of the ash.

It was a dead raven, lying beak up, with its feet curled into its body.

A shiver ran down my spine. I've never known a bird to drop dead down our chimney. I poked the bird with the tip of my brush to see if it had any apparent injury.

There was no visible injury.

I knocked the dead bird into the bucket and continued to sweep out the fireplace. I would take the bird out later and throw it in the compost pile. Unfortunately, it was too cold to bury it.

I built a fire up and dragged a chair in front of it. There was so much to be done before tonight's events. I couldn't be worrying about dead ravens or golden-winged angels.

I started peeling the vegetables for tonight's dinner and wondered how Poppy would react when Eli was mated to another girl.

Truthfully, I was relieved that Poppy would not be chosen as Eli's mate. Poppy was sunshine and energy, while Eli was cold and distant. I was sure that they would make each other miserable.