“A feast of riches, a feast of peace,” Braedyn muttered aloud, “Follow the onyx trek to the Forest O Hyv, and chant the words of my kith and kin. I wish to know you. Hades.”

Hades?

The lass surveyed the clock dangling upon the wall. It was an hour after midnight before she had received the email regarded as dire. It was with great concern she had presumed the message was from a boss, but upon whispering the God’s name, it was clear this was all a hoax.

“I hope.”

Braedyn shut the lid of the laptop and sagged upon the edge of the bed.

What had the missive meant by enchanting the phrase of kith and kin? And if the sentiment had so happened to depart her tongue, what would flare to life there after?

With a sigh, she collapsed backwards on the pillow and shut her eyes. Ever since her grandmother, Ester, had graced Braedyn with the gift of that golden bracelet, she had been receiving and witnessing grotesque images.

The murder of crows tarrying behind her after a shift of work, the youth bellowing at her in a strange tongue, and the neighbours migrating streets because they were hearing things. Perhaps she should burn the jewel.

“I wouldn’t.”

Braedyn shot up, her heart leaping within her chest.

Upon the windowsill was a raven, galloping jovially with its wings brandishing about.

“I wouldn’t,” it squawked. “I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t.”