Like Stones on a Crow's Back Read online

  Copyright 2018 Amy Cross

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, entities and places are either products of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual people, businesses, entities or events is entirely coincidental.

  Kindle edition

  First published: April 2018

  “Are you enjoying having your father with you, Ramsey? I hope you're not thinking about breaking our deal. It's a good deal. You should stick to it for the rest of your life.”

  One year after she made a deal to save her father's life, Ramsey Kopperud lives in fear. She's terrified that at any moment, the evil Sebastian might emerge from the forest and announce that the deal is off. Yet even as she tries to come to terms with her own actions, Ramsey has no idea that another deadly force is about to launch an attack. Sebastian wasn't alone in the forest, and now something else is coming for vengeance.

  Meanwhile, many years in the past, a farm-boy meets a beautiful witch and falls in love. As his hopes for happiness fade, however, young Sebastian must make a terrible choice. His decision will have consequences not only for his own life, and not only for the life of Ramsey many years in the future, but perhaps even for the fate of the whole world. First, though, he must try to pass the test of placing stones on a crow's back.

  LIKE STONES ON A CROW'S BACK is the sequel to THE DEVIL, THE WITCH AND THE WHORE, and the second book in a trilogy about the end of the world.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Part One

  Past

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Part Two

  Present

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Part Three

  Future

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Chapter Seventy

  Chapter Seventy-One

  Chapter Seventy-Two

  Chapter Seventy-Three

  Chapter Seventy-Four

  Epilogue

  Like Stones on a Crow's Back

  (The Deal book 2)

  Prologue

  And then, while Mrs. Cooper is telling me off for eating flowers during recess, I suddenly get an idea in my head and I know exactly what I have to do next.

  “You want to be pretty, don't you?” a voice whispers in my mind. “I know how to make you the prettiest girl in the whole school.”

  I turn and look around, but there's nobody behind me.

  “Sophia,” Mrs. Cooper says firmly, tapping my shoulder.

  I turn back to her.

  “Are you listening to me?” she continues.

  I nod, because I know that's what she wants, but secretly I can't hear her properly. The other voice, the voice in my head, is louder than her.

  “I'm putting a picture in your thoughts,” the voice explains. “Can you see that picture?”

  I pause, before nodding again.

  Mrs. Cooper is still telling me that I've been bad. She's saying that just because this is my first day back at school after being poorly for a week, that doesn't mean I get to misbehave.

  “I want you to make that picture real,” the voice continues. “I guarantee that if you do what I'm telling you, and if you copy the picture I'm sending you, everyone will think you're the most wonderful girl who ever lived. Would you like that?”

  I nod.

  “Okay, Sophia,” Mrs. Cooper says with a sigh, “I want you to go and stand in the corner for ten minutes and think about what you've done. Then you can go play with the others. And I mean it, young lady, when I warn you that this kind of thing can't happen again.”

  I turn and start shuffling toward the corner, but after a moment I glance over my shoulder and see that Mrs. Cooper has already started talking to one of the other teachers. Whatever they're discussing, they don't seem to be paying any attention to me, so I turn and start walking away from the corner, heading toward the far side of the yard where I know there's a hole in the chain-link fence.

  “Sophia! Where are you going?”

  I hear footsteps hurrying up behind me, and a moment later there's a bump on my arm. Even before I've turned to look at her, I know it's Judy.

  “Mrs. Cooper said you have to stand in the corner!” she hisses. “Why aren't you going to the corner?”

  “There's something else I need to do,” I reply.

  “You'll get in so much trouble!”

  “No I won't. People will be too busy thinking about how I'm beautiful.”

  “Huh?”

  “You'll see.”

  “Sophia, stop!”

  As I reach the edge of the yard and lean down to climb through the hole in the fence, Judy grabs my arm.

  “We're not allowed out there!” she continues. “Sophia, are you trying to get into trouble?”

  “She doesn't understand,” the voice whispers. “She will, later. But for that to happen, you need to do what I've told you. You know that, Sophia, don't you?”

  “Yes,” I reply.

  “Who are you talking to?” Judy asks.

  “No-one.”

  Slipping my hand free, I lean through the hole in the fence and climb out to the other side, where the grass is overgrown and there are old pieces of furniture dumped next to the far wall.

  “I'll tell Mrs. Cooper!” Judy blurts out, as if she's starting to panic.

  “She won't,” the voice says calmly. “It's an empty threat.”

  I look at Judy for a moment, before shrugging and making my way through the grass.

  “Come back!
” Judy hisses. “Sophia, you're going to get in so much trouble! They'll make you stand in the corner for a whole week!”

  Ignoring her, I push some taller grass aside and walk around behind the gardening block. The ground is much bumpier here, probably because no-one really ever comes to this part of the school. I can still hear everyone else playing in the yard, but their voices already sound so much further away. In fact, in some weird way, each step I take makes me feel more grown-up, as if all the others in the yard are just a bunch of silly children. Five minutes ago I was playing with them. I was like them. Now I have different ideas.

  All since the voice in my head changed to sound like an old man.

  “You can stop now,” the voice says suddenly.

  I stop at the corner of the building, and I immediately spot something glinting on the ground. Crouching down, I find that somebody has left a large pair of scissors at the edge of the grass, resting on the gravel. There's also a large black ball of wire.

  “I put those there for you,” the voice says.

  “But how could -”

  “Don't question things too much,” the voice continues. “Remember why you're here, Sophia. You're going to make yourself the prettiest girl in the whole world. This is the best idea you've ever had.”

  “But I don't know what the idea is,” I reply, which is true.

  I mean, I can see a picture in my head, but I don't know how I can make myself look like that.

  “Just start working,” the voice explains, “and you'll know instinctively what to do next.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I led you here, didn't I? Now why don't you pick up the scissors and sit on that ledge?”

  “What about the wire?”

  “You don't need that yet.”

  I pause, before reaching down and picking up the scissors, and then walking over to a little ledge on the side of the building. As I sit down, I genuinely have no idea what I'm supposed to do with the scissors, but then a fraction of a second later I realize that I at least know how to start. Still, the picture in my head doesn't seem quite right, and I hesitate as I look down at my bare left wrist.

  “What are you waiting for?” the voice asks.

  I swallow hard.

  “I'll guide you,” the voice continues. “You'll know instinctively, even without specific instructions.”

  “And you're me, aren't you?” I whisper.

  I wait, but all I hear is the sound of the other children playing in the yard.

  “It's very important,” the voice says after a moment, “that you follow your instincts when you make the dress.”

  “Dress?”

  “That's why you're here, Sophia. You're going to make a beautiful, beautiful dress.”

  “But -”

  Before I can ask how I can actually make a dress, I realize that there's a huge, long piece of the most amazing fabric draped across my bare left arm. I immediately start smiling as I stare down at the fabric, and I honestly think I've never seen anything so wonderful.

  It's every color all at once, all glowing together.

  “I don't know how to make a dress,” I whisper, as I hold the scissors in my right hand.

  “Trust me.”

  “I'll make a mistake,” I continue. “Someone else should make the dress, so I don't ruin the fabric.”

  “Only you can make this dress, Sophia. There's no-one else in the whole world who can make it, or who can wear it. That's why you're the one who has been given the opportunity. Think how everyone will stare when you're done, when you walk back into the yard and they see you looking so beautiful.”

  I move the scissors closer to the fabric, but I still can't quite bring myself to make the first cut. In fact, my hands are trembling slightly.

  “Or,” the voice continues, “I can get another little girl to try. If you're too babyish -”

  “No!”

  I take a deep breath, before pressing the bottom edge of the scissors against the fabric and pushing until the tip rips through. Unable to find an edge where I can start properly, I have to wiggle the scissors a little and make a small hole, and then I slowly start cutting along the piece of fabric that's covering my arm. Each time I close the blades, I feel a faint shudder pass through my chest, and I hear a clean slicing sound.

  Like the sound I hear when Mom cuts up beef or chicken for dinner.

  “That's right,” the voice whispers as I keep slowly, carefully cutting a line through the fabric. “You're doing so well, Sophia. I can see that I was right to give this job to you, instead of to any of the other girls in the yard.”

  I open my mouth to ask where I should cut next, but somehow I realize that I need to turn the scissors and cut along another length of fabric that runs along the other side of my arm. I furrow my brow a little as I try to concentrate, and I know I mustn't rush. Even now, as I listen to the slicing sound, I feel a strange sense of nausea in my tummy, but something seems to be holding the nausea down, as if it won't let the feeling get all the way up into my head.

  So I cut some more.

  And then more.

  And more.

  And soon I find that there's plenty of the fabric. So much, in fact, that it's draped over my feet and my knees and my shoulders, and even my head. It's really hard to focus on exactly what shapes I'm cutting, but somehow deep down I know, after each cut, where the next should be made. Then the next, and the next, and the next and the next and the next until I have to reach my hand behind my back so that I can cut even more.

  After a while, feeling a little breathless and dizzy, I have to stop for a moment.

  “Not now,” the voice says quickly. “You have to keep going.”

  “I need to rest,” I reply, struggling to keep my eyes open.

  “There'll be plenty of time to rest once the dress is on and you're wearing it.”

  “Can't I just rest now? Can't I just close my eyes?”

  My head feels so heavy. I lean forward and let my eyes slip shut.

  “No!” the voice booms, startling me and causing me to sit up straight. “You have to finish the dress as soon as possible!”

  “My feet are wet,” I reply, in a sudden moment of realization. I look down, but there's too much fabric and I can't see my feet at all. “Why are my feet wet?”

  “Don't worry about that now.”

  “I don't want wet feet.”

  “You've finished the first part of the dress,” the voice replies. “You can drop the scissors now, Sophia.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I'm sure. Don't ever doubt me.”

  I tilt my hand until the scissors fall away, and then I hear them clattering against the gravel.

  “Now you need to pull the fabric away,” the voice explains.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means you need to separate it. Take hold of one of the edges on your leg.”

  I still feel very dizzy, but I suppose I have to finish what I've started. Reaching down, I grab one of the edges with my trembling hands, and I immediately feel that the fabric feels warm and slightly wet. I blink a couple of times, trying to clear my slightly fuzzy vision, and I can't help but notice that my head is getting heavy again.

  “Now pull,” the voice says firmly. “Rip it away.”

  I start pulling on the fabric, but at first nothing happens and I assume I must be doing it wrong. When I pull a little harder, however, I hear a splitting, sticky sound, and I very slowly tear one strip of fabric away from another. At the same time, the nausea in my belly seems to be getting worse and worse, although once again something seems to be holding the worst of the feeling down.

  “That's good,” the voice purrs, as I tear more fabric apart. “You're such a clever girl, Sophia, and so obedient. I knew, as soon as I saw you, that you'd be the best girl for this task.”

  “Will the dress look really beautiful?” I whisper, still feeling very drowsy.

  “Oh, you have no idea.”


  A faint smile crosses my lips, but then suddenly my heavy head drops and I can no longer keep my eyes open.

  “Sophia, wake up!” the voice says firmly.

  “I just need to sleep,” I reply, barely even getting the words out. “My feet are wet. Why are my feet wet?”

  “Sophia! Wake up right now!”

  With my eyes still shut, I reach down and touch my right foot. I don't know exactly what's wrong, but for a moment my fingertips brush against something very rough and very wet and slightly warm. I run my fingers down toward my foot and feel the same thing. Finally, forcing my eyes open, I tilt my head and look down, and to my horror I see that my foot is bare and covered in blood, with thick patches of bone and muscle exposed. Long, thick sheets of bare loose flesh are dangling down from where they're bunched in my lap.

  “Sophia!”

  I blink, and the horrific image vanishes in an instant.

  Instead, I find myself simply staring down at the beautiful fabric again.

  “There's not much time,” the voice continues. “I'm already helping you so very much. Now you have the fabric and it's almost ready, but you need to turn it inside out.”

  “Why do I need to do that?”

  “Don't ask questions, child. Just do as you're told.”

  Swaying slightly, I sit and stare at the fabric in my hands. At first I don't understand what the voice meant, but then slowly I start holding the fabric up and I see that it's curled in many places. Tilting the fabric around slightly, I'm shocked to find that one of the sections even has two small holes with two smaller holes slightly lower down and then one longer, wider hole further down still. It's almost as if a face is staring back at me.

  “Turn it inside out,” the voice urges. “Your hands are shaking, Sophia. There isn't much time.”

  Even though I feel exhausted, I force myself to do as I'm told. I turn the fabric around and fumble with the edges, and it takes a few minutes but finally I manage to get the entire piece turned inside out. The fabric is very heavy, and very wet too, and after a moment I can't help noticing that the midday sunlight seems to be shining through and making the surface glow slightly.