I grew up with the superstition that if you saw a single crow/raven, you had to blow it a kiss, otherwise it would bring you sadness. I’ve always thought that, despite the sadness (if you saw two together, it was good luck so I guess that kinda balances things) they were beautiful creatures. Smart, adaptable, had a weakness for shiny things. And mimic like you can’t believe (live in Canada and it’s the damnest thing when your car won’t turn over in the winter and you hear a BIRD repeat the sound, then fly away laughing at you). It was this facination with the Raven that was the genesis of a novel that’s in tatters,
begging screaming demanding waiting to be put back together and sent in.
Hunin and Munin, Thought and Memory, are Odin’s ravens. They are Elderkin and can only enter this world by way of the Blood Of The Gods, when it is mixed with the blood of an Anchor. Each Anchor is specific to each Elderkin.
Hunin comes through first. And finds that an Ancient evil has resurfaced. One that may be more than Hunin and his unprepared Anchor, Rhiannon, can fight alone.