CHAPTER ONE:
THE AWAKENING
Maya
Rodriguez locked the door of Inked Shadows, her tattoo parlor in downtown Portland. The rain outside cast moving shadows across the hardwood floor as she flipped the sign to "CLOSED" and sighed. Three full sleeves and a back piece today. Her hands ached, but the satisfaction of creating permanent art kept her going after seven years in the business.
After counting the day's earnings, she moved to her station to clean up. The small parlor, decorated with her flash art and vintage anatomical drawings, had become her sanctuary after leaving her corporate design job.
As she wiped down her station, she noticed something strange about the design she'd finished on her own forearm just yesterday - a delicate raven perched on a branch, its wings slightly extended. Was it her exhaustion, or had the position of the wing shifted?
"Need sleep," she muttered, rubbing her eyes. After sterilizing her equipment, she made her way up the narrow staircase to her small apartment above the shop.
That night, Maya dreamed of flying. Soaring above the city, weightless, the wind carrying her higher until she could see the entire skyline spread below her like a circuit board of lights. She woke with a start at 3:17 AM, her arm burning as though she'd pressed it against a hot iron.
Stumbling to the bathroom, she flipped on the light and nearly screamed.
The raven was gone. Just gone. In its place was a perfect, unblemished patch of skin.
"What the hell?" she whispered, rubbing at the spot. No ink, no irritation, nothing.
A soft sound from downstairs made her freeze. A rustling, like paper shifting in a breeze, but there was no open window.
Heart pounding, Maya grabbed her baseball bat from beside her bed and crept down to the shop. The security system was still armed, the door locked. But something wasn't right.
The light from the street lamps gave just enough illumination to see that her flash art sheets - the ones hanging on the wall - were moving. No, not the sheets. The designs themselves.
A dragon curled its tail. A mermaid flipped her fins. A skull opened and closed its jaw.
"I'm losing my mind," Maya whispered, clutching the bat tighter.
Then she saw it. A black shape, larger than a cat, moving across her floor. When it turned toward her, she recognized the distinctive profile of her raven.
The raven tilted its head, regarding her with eyes that seemed impossibly aware, then spread its wings and launched itself upward, circling the room once before landing on her drafting table.
Maya's legs gave out beneath her as she sank to the floor, bat clattering beside her.
"This can't be happening," she said, her voice barely audible.
The raven cawed softly, as if in response.