During her walks with Mama, Raven questioned her to make sure there wasn’t more to be learned about how to do an Asking. Mama said she must feel a very strong conviction and confidence in what she wanted. Raven knew she would have no problem with that. She wanted to go to school with the boys and Ms. Taft more than anything.

Mama said once she knew with all her soul what she wanted, the most important part of an Asking was a deep connection to the earth’s energy. She told Raven she certainly had that. Mama had started bringing Raven outdoors when she was a little baby. She had put rocks in her tiny fists and let her taste their elemental power. She had carried her up mountains to let her breathe in the scents of the many spirits that lived there. She had rested her on the ground and let tree spirits sing her into sleep.

“Other people put their babies in little prisons called cribs and playpens,” Mama had told her. “They keep them locked inside their houses. Your crib and playpen were woods, creeks, and fields. Your one cradle was my arms—but only until you could walk. When you were strong, I set you free.”

“I went into the woods alone when I was a baby?” Raven asked.

“No, Daughter. You needed many lessons before you could be left alone. I guided you in the ways of the earth, teaching you what was dangerous and what was good. But while I gave you those lessons, I mostly let you wander. I would test you every day to make sure you knew how to return home.”

“When did I first go out alone?”

“Just before you turned six,” she said. “Don’t you remember that day?”

“The day I left early in the morning when you were asleep?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “Do you remember what you brought to me when you returned home?”

“A raccoon skull.”

She nodded. “The earth spirits were speaking to me through that gift. They said Daughter of Raven was ready to wander like a bold and clever raccoon.”

Mama still had that skull. It was on the bone table. That was where they kept the skulls, bones, teeth, carapaces, and shells she used to teach Raven about animals.

The second day after the party at Jackie’s house, Raven made her first Asking for school. She did it on the shore of the creek where she’d first met Jackie, Huck, and Reece. Her Asking for the boys to return had been there, and it had been answered very well.

The next day, Raven did another Asking. She made it close to the house to be near Mama while she cooked lunch, hoping its nearness might influence her with more strength. She put all of her wanting into the Asking. Jackie and the boys started school the next day. She would have to talk to Mama that night.

Fortunately, Mama was in a good mood that day. Raven helped her harvest vegetables from the garden and cook them for supper. But she could hardly eat because her stomach was quivery.

When they were almost done eating, she said, “Mama . . . ?”

Mama saw she was afraid. Her star-colored eyes seemed to look straight into Raven’s heart.

“What do you want to say, Daughter of Raven?”

Already she sounded almost angry. As if she knew it all before Raven had said it.

Raven thought of Ms. Taft saying, “You’re young, but you have a right to ask for what you want.”

“I want to go to school,” Raven said.

Mama’s eyes looked like they did when Aunt Sondra talked about school. “You already go to school,” she said.

“I want to go where the other children go to school.”

“Why would you want this? Are my lessons not enough?”

“They’re good lessons! I know more than most kids my age.”

Mama jumped to her feet. “Who told you that? Who have you been talking to?”

Raven froze, unable to speak. Mama’s eyes. They looked so cold, more like ice than starlight.

“Who have you been talking to?” Mama shouted.

“I haven’t—”

“Don’t lie to me! I have never heard you say that word kids before! Where did you hear it?”

Raven thought of Jackie. She would not let Mama keep her from him.

She stood. “I met a boy.”

“A boy! Where?”

“He came to swim at the big pool in the creek.”

“When was this?”

“I don’t know. When Baby was in her nest.”

“Was the boy with another boy?”

“Two others.”

“Did one have red hair?”

“Yes.”

“I saw them there last summer,” Mama said. “I let them be because they have as much right to earth’s gifts as we do. You should have let them be as well. I’ve told you this!”

“You never told me I can’t talk to people. You only said not to talk about earth spirits and my father.”

“And you didn’t?”

“I know not to, Mama!”

“How long did you speak to them? Why would they tell you to go to school?”

“I made friends with them. That’s why they want me to go to their school.”

Mama stepped closer, her eyes so cold Raven could feel their chill. “Friendship doesn’t happen in one meeting.”

“It did happen in one meeting. I wanted to see them again. I wanted it so bad, I did an Asking.”