The fire cast dancing shadows across the stone beach. Henry leaned back in his folding camp chair, enjoying the fire's warmth. He sipped at a beer—the odd beer had grown on him, over the years—as he watched the flames dance...

A log shifted, sending a flurry of sparks into the night. It was a beautiful night. Clear and quiet. Perfectly fucking quiet. The little private beach was a perfect retreat from the campground's customers and their usual nightly racket. Family-friendly or not, they sure were loud. Beth always teased him about being so bothered by it, reminding him that 'this is the sound of good business.' But out here, on the edge of their little lake, none of that could reach him. Out here, his only company was the lapping of the water, the crackle of the fire, and the moon overhead.

The moon tonight was huge. Soon it would approach the peak of its cycle... just in time for the Raven Festival. By then it'd be even bigger—a supermoon, they called it.

"Gunnar must be pleased," Henry grumbled to himself and then snorted. A big, glorious moon would be the cherry on top of Gunnar's precious festival sundae. A perfect stroke of luck. Things always had a way of working out just fine for him. "That bastard must have a horseshoe up his ass or something..." He raised the beer bottle to his lips and drank deeply—

With a shrieking squeak, something shot out of the forest—right at Henry's head. It turned at the last second, swooping low over him, making him spit out his mouthful of beer which sizzled as it hit the hot rocks around the fire.

The thing turned again, grazing the tips of the fire's flames before coming to rest on the log across from Henry. Under the firelight, its glossy black feathers and beady, insistent eyes shone gold.

A raven.

The bird focussed on Henry. It stared hard at him like it was trying to tell him something.

Henry stared back, narrowing his eyes.

It had been a long time since the ravens around town hadn't looked at him like that, with meaning. A long, long time.

He had always figured that he had been meant to do something that night. What, exactly, he still didn't know. But instead, he ran away like a coward... And the ravens had gone back to ignoring him like they—and whatever he had seen that night—had given up on him.

But now the ravens had come back to him...

And this time, he was ready.

"What do you want?" he asked, leaning forward.

The bird turned away, looking back towards the woods.

As it did, there was a clatter of stones. Henry whipped around, his heart pounding. He wondered if it was the Raven, finally returning to see him after all this time...

But it was only Penelope, stepping out onto the rocky beach.

"Penelope!" Henry cried, leaping up from his chair. He looked back at the bird but it had already taken to the air, flying away into the night. "Jesus, you scared me. I wasn't expecting you and Liam to be back for..." He turned back to her, scanning the forest behind her to look for his nephew... But Liam wasn't with her. And as he took a closer look at her, he realized something wasn't right...

Penelope was filthy. She was covered in grime and her clothes were ripped. There were twigs and leaves tangled in her dyed-black hair. And her eyes... They were flat and far away like she couldn't shake the sight of something.

Something horrible.

Her eyes came back to life as she noticed him, opening wide as she took him in. It was like she didn't quite believe that he was real. "Henry...?" she muttered, staggering further out onto the beach. The sound of her footsteps, rattling the rocks under her feet, pulled her attention down. She studied the noisy stones at her feet like they were something just as incomprehensible.

"Penelope, what happened?" Henry asked. He wondered if maybe she had taken a bad fall in the woods, or...

"I-I was just... Miles away... And..." was all she managed to get out before she collapsed.

Henry rushed over to her.

She tried to push herself up, but her legs gave out again. Henry offered her his hand and she took it gladly, holding onto it for dear life. Her grip was surprisingly strong.

"What happened?" he asked as he hauled her to her feet. "Are you okay?"

Penelope looked up at Henry. Her eyes were bright in the firelight. "I need your help," she said, her voice shaking. Her grip on his arm tightened. "Liam's—"

The quiet of the beach was shattered by the tinny ring of a cell phone. Penelope's hand went instinctively to her hoodie pocket. She could feel the vibration through the fabric. She dug it out and stared at the dirt-encrusted phone.

Liam's name was front and center on the screen.

Only it couldn't be Liam...

"Where's... Liam?" Henry asked, looking from the screen to her face.

Penelope shook her head. She couldn't explain it all now. With shaking hands, she swept the grime off her phone, but it did little good, so she answered by speakerphone.

"H-Hello?" she mumbled.

"Penelope."

Of course, it wasn't Liam.

It was Gunnar.

Penelope didn't answer. She flicked her gaze to Henry, who watched her with folded brows. He had to recognize the voice, too. And hearing Gunnar's voice coming from Liam's number, he seemed to be taking another, better look at her—at her bloodied knuckles, the bruises on her face. He was starting to put things together...

His eyes blazed. He opened his mouth—

Penelope shook her head and put her finger to her lips, mouthing, You're not here.

"Are you alright, Penelope?" Gunnar said, sounding genuinely concerned. "Safe and sound?"

"Uh, y-yeah," Penelope said, though she didn't feel any kind of safe.

"Well, of course, you must be," Gunnar said with a light chuckle like this was just a bit of small talk. "You must be fine if you can take this call. The reception at the subdivision is shit, so I guess you're no longer out there." He gave a big sigh like that was the best news he'd heard in a long time. "Thank goodness. I was worried you'd get yourself killed in those woods, but I guess your little friend wouldn't let that happen."

Henry tilted his head. Little friend? he mouthed.

Penelope shook her head. Not now. "I g-guess not."

"But you forgot something," Gunnar replied. "Liam's still here."

Penelope squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to look into Henry's eyes while that news sunk in for him. "I didn't forget. And I didn't forget about Daevon either."

"Hm," was all Gunnar said. "Well, they're both still here. The others, too."

"And are they..." Her breath shook. "Okay?"

"Of course!" Gunnar replied with another laugh like her suggestion was absurd. "Why wouldn't they be? Oh, well, to be fair, Liam did hit his head pretty hard and he's in a bit of a state, but nothing too bad."

"I can come get him," Penelope said quickly, squeezing her eyes shut. A few tears leaked out, cutting clean lines through the grime on her cheeks. "Please let me come and get him. I'll do whatever you w—"

"No, no. Not tonight. It's far too late, and he's settled in nicely here. They'll all be safe here for the night. Why don't you come by tomorrow? After the party, of course."

Penelope's eyes snapped open. "Party? What party?"

"Why, it's Raven's Eve! The day before the festival!" Gunnar gasped like it was obvious. "Haven't you been paying attention to the festival schedule? I've posted it up all over town."

There was a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Not exactly..." Was it really so soon? She remembered Gunnar saying something about not having much time to find another guest but...

"Oh, well. Don't worry about it too much. It's mostly local. Nothing big or fancy." He laughed again, slipping too easily into his mayoral role. "Every year we hold a little block party to kick it all off. Let loose after all our hard work, drink a little, eat a little, thank our guests. But now that you mention it..."

Penelope tightened her grip on her phone. She knew what was coming next.

For the first time, Gunnar's voice took a sharp edge, like he was smiling with all his teeth. "I need you to do something for me..."