Casey saw the raven rise. This time he was ready. He took his position and aimed—took all the proper steps—and released the arrow.
The bowstring hummed. The white arrow flew.
The bird dropped.
Casey’s reaction was astonishment. Had he truly, actually hit the bird? His heart lurched with alarm. For just a second he expected an automated voice to proclaim, Great shot! But there were only two sounds Casey heard: the gentle tip-tapping of rain, and his own pounding heart.
Casey searched the trees, waiting for the bird to reappear.
It did not.
Dismay swept through him. Had he really killed the raven? He never expected to. It wasn’t possible. The idea of it frightened him. It was just a freak shot, he told himself. He had not really aimed, had not really intended to kill her.
He must have missed.
Must have, he hoped.
Casey moved forward slowly, searching the ground. Maybe the bird was just fooling. She might be faking it. Or was just wounded. He kept looking but saw nothing of the bird. He kept going. Then he stopped. He saw her.
The raven lay on the ground on her back, big black wings extended as if in upside-down flight. Her legs were sticking up, talons in a tight curl.
“Oh my God,” Casey whispered. “She’s dead.”
Horrified, he felt his eyes well with tears. He wiped them away, then looked for his arrow but did not see it. He remembered what his book had said, that an arrow could pierce a jug of sand. This was just a bird. It must have gone right through her.
He felt sick.
He looked around, fearful that someone might have seen what he had done. It was then that he saw what appeared to be large dog footprints. There were also bloodstains. Casey’s fright increased. Was the blood from the bird or something else?
He had shot two arrows.
Had he killed two creatures?
He raised his eyes. In the trees above him, seven ravens were staring down at him.
Alarmed, fearful what the birds might do, Casey nocked another arrow to his string.
With a whoosh! the ravens flew off.
Casey went forward, bow and arrow in hand. He looked now this way, then that, ready to shoot until he saw what appeared to be an extremely large dog. It was just lying there.