A Rhyme of Crows by Emily Howcroft

Overall Teens Category Winner

One for sorrow
Two for mirth
Three for a wedding
Four for a birth
Five for silver
Six for gold
And seven for a secret never to be told

Elizabeth Alice Quillrose was a scaredy-cat. This meant, by definition, that there were a great deal of things in this world that instilled the emotion of fear inside her. She had all the common phobias—spiders (too many eyes), snakes (so slithery!) and more, which was why even the mere thought of moving to a dark, abandoned manor in the middle of a famously haunted area gave her the odd, pounding fear commonly associated with rollercoasters. Of course, actually doing it was even worse.

The car’s tires crunched noisily on the gravel driveway as it pulled in at the front of the looming manor. Elizabeth pressed her nose to the icy glass, hoping to catch a glimpse of the famed house. Her mind had spent the three-hour trip conjuring fantastical images of grandeur and gold furnishings, but she was sorely disappointed. The mansion was not, by any terms, a golden palace. More like a... bronze shack—beautiful once, but aged by the weather and numerous vandals. The house’s paint was chipped and peeling, littering the ground. A fountain resided a little way off, once an exemplary picture of beauty and perfection, but now only an example of misuse and neglect.

A crow perched on the manor’s porch roof, watching them. Elizabeth shivered as she passed through the oak double doors into the manor’s foyer. A ghostly aura haunted the corridors, filling the alleys with frozen air. Her parents, ever the scatterbrained, had neglected to bring food and had embarked on a sudden journey to the local grocery store, leaving her alone. Of course, being her usual frightened self, it took all she had to not curl up and hide under a particularly thick blanket.

Elizabeth crept forward on silent feet, doing her best to avoid the floorboards that looked like they might creak under pressure. It was one of her worst fears—that in a time of need and danger, an unoiled floorboard might betray her.

She wove her way up the spiral staircases and searched along the shadowy corridors until she discovered a suitable bedroom. It was the smallest out of the sixteen in the house, but somehow, it was more comforting than a larger room. Elizabeth busied herself with idle tasks to pass the time, neatening her clothes and dressing the bed in a series of woollen blankets. It was oddly satisfying to lay everything out and put it into order, a bit like ordering cutlery or —

Thud.

A dull, heavy noise residing in the wardrobe occurred, interrupting Elizabeth’s train of thought. Her outstretched fingers brushed the handle, allowing the doors to swing open and unveil a small, plain suitcase. It seemed innocent enough.

Elizabeth’s mind warred against itself. One half, the suffocating, worried, probably logical side argued that no, obviously she shouldn’t open the ominous suitcase in the wardrobe of a haunted manor. But some deep, hidden part—the part where her abnormally small amount of courage waited—explained that she should open it. It didn’t listen to reason, but had an overwhelmingly strong resource of curiosity that swarmed through Elizabeth’s mind.

Elizabeth decided to open the suitcase.

Immediately—seconds after the clasps had been flicked open—a viscous, sunlight-coloured mist began to fill the room. Elizabeth covered her mouth, but she had no reason to worry. The mist separated quickly into miniature globes that shone with the colours of the rainbow. Her fingertips ran gently along the surface of the closest of them as a euphoric laughter bubbled in her throat. A warm feeling of joy and excitement grew in her chest, filling her body. Finally, something beautiful in this place!

A pair of crows landed on the windowsill, their beady eyes following the orbs.

Elizabeth’s hand cupped around one and discovered an image inside. Her eyes bore into the picture—it was a wedding. A man and a woman, dressed in lace and other finery, stood holding hands at an altar. They looked beautiful and happy and a million other things, excited for their special day.

A third crow, this one with an unusual spattering of white feathers, joined the pair on the windowsill.

Elizabeth peered into a different globe. This one showed the same couple in a hospital room, cradling a newborn girl in their arms. The woman smiled happily at the man, who gave her a loving kiss on the forehead.

A fourth bird, complete with an elegant beak, added to the growing collection.

Elizabeth’s eyes roved through the glowing orbs, finding memories and images and realms apart. The next orb glowed silver, and depicted mountains of coins and money stashed away in a bank vault deep underground. The one after that, a treasure trove of gold bars and casino chips hidden beneath the earth.

With each globe, a new crow arrived on the windowsill.

Finally, when the number of birds had grown to six and Elizabeth had spent an hour gazing into the wondrous reality stowed into the orbs, the hum of an engine broke through the silence. Her parents, this time armed with paper bags loaded with fruits, vegetables and an unusually large selection of wafers, had arrived at the manor. Elizabeth ran to greet them as her mother, fiddling with the car keys, absentmindedly inquired about the house.

‘What did you do while we were out?’

Elizabeth smiled a wry smile, her mind lost in her adventures.

‘Oh, nothing much.’

And from the windowsill, the crows launched themselves into the icy sky, their wings beating furiously. And behind them, gliding on ebony wings, flew a seventh crow, its black-button eyes roving the courtyard as the wind carried it far, far away.