Two Ravens and One Crow (Novella)

little otter. Move. Out of the street now.« She made shooing motions, as if human hand signals were universally understood by animals. I rolled over onto my back and tried to look pathetic, which didn’t tax my thespian talents in the least. Linda shrewdly noticed I was not well. »Hey. Are you all right? You don’t look so good. Poor thing.«
    I gave a mournful little otter cry to push her sympathy button. Magic or no, getting shot takes something out of you; I wanted a ride out of there, and it worked.
    »Oh! You must be ill. I’ll take you to the vet if you promise not to bite me.«
    I didn’t know what kind of promise she expected me to make as an otter. I was beginning to suspect Linda might have some issues. Still, she was a kind soul and more likely to help me than the average person. I repeated the wee moan and closed my eyes. That did it. She picked me up, keeping me wrapped in the shirt, and took me to her car; it was one of those tiny European jobs that look like a doorstop with wheels. The coat and pants she left in the street. She nearly dropped me when she realized I was bleeding.
    »Oh! Oh, my goodness! Please don’t die!«
    She completely ignored the honking cars behind her now; they didn’t bother her anymore. She had a mission. She opened the passenger door and gently laid me down in the seat before running around to the driver’s side. Safely ensconced with my line of sight obstructed by the dashboard, I never saw the attack coming. Linda didn’t see it coming either, because she was looking at me when it hit.
    A figure in black dropped out of the sky and rammed its fist down onto the hood of Linda’s car just as she hit the accelerator. The front end stayed put and the rear leapt up, tumbling me painfully from the seat into the tiny area where people were supposed to stretch out their legs. This did nothing to improve the condition of my spleen.
    Linda screamed as she was thrown forward and the driver’s side air bag deployed. The honking behind us ceased, the drivers realizing that something serious was happening ahead and the stoppage of traffic wasn’t due to one person’s whimsy.
    »Out of the car!« an angry voice bellowed. It may have been a woman’s voice; it was speaking modern Norwegian. Linda was either too disoriented or too wise to comply.
    Under attack , I sent to the Morrigan.
    I saw. If I forget to tell you later, thank you for a lovely evening of mayhem .
    Um. You’re welcome?
    Wincing with the effort, I managed to extricate myself fully from the tuxedo shirt and crawl back into the passenger seat as the driver’s side door was yanked open and Linda was torn from the vehicle by unseen hands. She should have worn her seat belt.
    I shape-shifted back to human and gasped as my insides rearranged. It didn’t improve my situation except that I could better see what was going on. Steam rose from under the hood; the car was totaled and wouldn’t be running anytime soon. The figure in black, I saw, didn’t intend to rip me from the car too; he or she intended to pick up the car and throw it somewhere with me still inside—a godlike variation on vehicular homicide. I couldn’t tell much about the attacker, because he or she was outfitted not only with black mercenary body armor but with a black ski mask as well. Absolutely none of the clothing was made of natural materials, so I couldn’t bind anything. I fumbled for the door release as the figure lifted the car from the front corner, grabbing on to the well of the wheel with one hand and latching on to the front bumper, perhaps, with the right. It’s frightening to be in a car as it leaves the ground. There’s a fundamental sense of wrongness to be airborne in a car that isn’t performing a movie stunt.
    The Morrigan dove out of the sky, shifted midair, and kicked the person in the jaw. The car dropped back to earth, I banged my head somehow, and then I got to watch the Morrigan throw down with this strange assailant in the middle of the road. Naked. Weaponless. And with a growing crowd of witnesses.
    They both began to move faster than the eye could track, blurring in motion as they landed blows and kicks on each other. That made the assailant a god in disguise; nobody human was a match for the Morrigan. That made me think of vampires; I supposed a sufficiently old one could match her. The Morrigan acknowledged this by disengaging for a moment to wipe some blood away from her lips. She smiled, both her teeth and