Raven Mocker Read Online Free Page B

else, something that not only puzzled, but alarmed her a little.
Fear.
It was there, in the youngster’s face. But what had he to fear from an old woman?
    It was several days before she chanced to overhear another conversation through the wall. Actually, it was not by “chance,” though Snakewater may not have realized it. Her spot against the wall, with the curving post thatjust happened to fit the curve of her head and neck, was a convenient place to rest, nothing more. If someone on the other side of the wall happened to have found a convenient place, too, so be it. That was no concern of hers. Sometimes she almost had herself convinced.
    Those were her thoughts as she settled down in her resting place against the wall. There were two things that bothered her, both linked to the attitude of others toward her. One was the strange reaction of the hunter when she shot the squirrel; the other, the ridiculous game that the two girls were playing, scaring each other with stories of the Raven Mocker. Maybe it was just her imagination that the glances of people on the street were suspicious, angry, and threatening. No, not threatening as much as resentful. Maybe she had
three
concerns, somehow, or were they all
one?
    She had never cared much what anyone thought of her. The old granny woman had taught her that. There would always be those to laugh and ridicule others who are different. Granny Snakewater had taught her to ignore them.
You know who you are. Nothing else matters. Their ignorance is their problem.
    But now, in some mysterious way, things were changing. She still did not
care
, but was being forced to evaluate her situation. It occurred to her that it had been some time since anyone had requested her assistance with anything. Well, it had been rainy…. People were not out and around as much …. In her heart she knew that the rain would make very little difference. Could it be that another medicine-doctor had arrived from another town? No, it did not seem logical.
    She was dozing in the warm afternoon shade when the girls’ voices roused her.
    “My mother says there are others who wonder too,” Rain was saying.
    “Wonder about the old witch woman?”
    “Yes! Whether she is the Raven Mocker. She has always been strange, you know.”
    “Since she was a child, you mean?”
    “No one knows,” said Rain, a tone of conspiracy in her voice. “Do you think she was
ever
a child, a girl like us?”
    The other girl giggled. “It doesn’t seem likely, does it?”
    “There is nobody in the whole town who remembers her as a child.”
    “Yes, but that is only because she is older than anyone.”
    “Exactly! That is the point, Doe. How does it happen that
she
still lives?”
    “I—I don’t know.”
    “Yes, you do. The Raven Mocker steals one lifetime after another. Old Snakewater could be a hundred years old …
five
hundred, maybe. And you agreed, before, she always hovers around the dying.”
    T his was becoming a bit frightening. Snakewater had not taken it very seriously at first—had almost found it amusing, in fact. But the tone of the conversation she had overheard today was different. It carried an urgency that she did not understand. If the whole town was talking like this, it could account for all of the puzzling questions she had been pondering. The sidelong glances, almost angry… the look of fear on the hunter’s face… the scarcity of requests for her help. People were
afraid
of her. It was a far different emotion from the awe of her powers that she had always felt—and which she had enjoyed, she was forced to admit. This was a completely different attitude on the part of her people, the Real People.
    She lay on her pallet, unable to sleep.
    “Lumpy, what am I gong to do?” she asked into the darkness. Then, after a short time, “Yes, I know it’s not your problem. It is mine, but not of my making. Or is it?”
    The suspicion that she had been trying to avoid now reared its ugly head,