He’ll Be Back

Jane frowned.  She could hear the sirens closer now.  “I don’t know whether I’m damned or not.  We didn’t have damnation when I was a kid, so I don’t know where I stand.  My big problem isn’t that at all—”

“Your big problem is you can’t die,” Eddie cut her off.

“Chingado.”

“If it doesn’t rain, well, you know.”

“Bullseye,” she said.

Eddie nodded.  “Take care of yourself.”  He ground his window back up again, Jim nodded, and then they were in motion, rolling onto the highway and away.

Above the taillights of the Dodge, she could make out two birds flying away.  One was Twitch, a white-winged raptor with a silver horse’s tail; the other was a large black crow.

“Come on, girl.”  Jane turned and led her mount into the sorghum fields.  She didn’t have the strength of ka to put together any useful wards, and she could see the lights of the police cars and fire trucks now.  She’d feel better after a couple of hours of light walking, and then she’d put together appropriate spells for traveling.

The Thracian Mare neighed a slight protest.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be back,” Jane acknowledged.  “The crow will always be back.”

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