“Oh no!” Mucum cried, as a raven plunged out of the dew-drenched fog straight toward him. “How could you do this?”

“Oi be sorry!” shouted Flo above the noise of beating wings. “Oi had no choice!” she cried as the bird, drawn by the incense of blood, veered in toward its target.

35• AN OLD FRIEND

When Ark first heard the voice, he thought he was dreaming. “Geroff me, you weirdo!”

He sat up in his bed, suddenly awake after a long, deep sleep. He knew that grumbling moan from anywhere. Surely he’d imagined it?

But at that moment, the door to his bedroom slammed open. “Don’t wanna go in no more dungeons, lady. I’ve ‘ad enough prisons to last me a lifetime, right … Hey!” A bulky figure was shoved inside none too gracefully.

“You read the wood as if all is against you. Use your eyes to see the truth!” Corwenna snapped.

Mucum looked up. “Ark! Is that you, old bud? You’re supposed to be dead, or am I dreamin’ ’ere?”

“No. You’re awake. I think.” A smile burst like a blossom over his face. The last time he’d seen Mucum, he was fighting for his life in the pouring rain in another country.

“Fair doo-doos!” said Mucum. “I fort the ravens ‘ad you. Yer gettin’ pretty good at dodgin’ death, mate. I’m impressed. Now, can yer tell me ’oo’s the crazy hazel-switch with the funny hairdo?” He motioned behind him with his thumb.

“Mucum, meet my m —” But Ark couldn’t say it. Not yet. “Meet Corwenna, Queen of the Ravenwood.”

The words stopped Mucum in his tracks. “Yer jokin’, mate. This bag of wrinkles? I gave up believin’ in all that oakey-croakey stuff years ago.”

“Did you?” she asked, a hint of danger in her voice. She drew herself up until she suddenly towered over Mucum. Her dark skin shone like coal and her eyes were blinding in their intensity. “I am Corwenna,” the voice boomed, carrying within it thunder and lightning, the decay of winter and the urge of spring. “All that is visible and hidden in these woods belongs to me!”

Mucum was convinced. “Oh my giddy tree goats!” He fell to his knees. “Forgive me insults!” He was trembling all over.

Corwenna softened, her figure shrinking to almost Dendran size again. “Oh, do get up! This shuffling around on knees is only for the dullest of pilgrims.”

“Righty-ho.” Mucum stood up and edged back toward the door. “I’m not dreamin’ you or nuffin’?” For someone who didn’t believe in all that mumbo jumbo, meeting a bona fide deity was a shock.

“I am as real as the wood you stand on.”

“Yeah. Well …” His brain couldn’t take it all in.

Ark jumped in. “But what happened with Petronio?”