Free Jane and the Raven King by Stephen Chambers

can, and when she collidedwith it, plates, saucers, glasses, silverware, and napkins went flying in every direction in a tremendous clattering, crashing smash that made everyone fall silent again. The crab’s green eyes looked from one end of the mess to the other as it struggled to balance one last glass of milk atop its front claw—and the glass fell, exploding in glittery chips and milk on the floor.
    “Oh, dear,” the crab said.
    “Nice job, savior!” someone called, and the room erupted into laughter.
    Jane murmured an apology and stumbled away, her face bright red. She went to a far table that was completely empty except for one Indian girl dressed in an I ♥ NY T-shirt reading a thick book. She blinked when Jane sat.
    “I’m sorry,” the girl said in a vaguely British accent. “Would you like me to move?”
    “No, it’s okay,” Jane said. “I mean, you can if you want to, but I don’t mind. You don’t have to move for me.”
    “Okay,” the girl said, and she went back to reading her book.
    Boys at a nearby table were looking at Jane and laughing, but Jane told herself she didn’t care—except that she wanted to crawl into a corner and cry. Why does it always have to happen like this? she thought. Why can’t I do anything right?
    The tall dark-haired boy in the red jacket came to stand behind a chair across from Jane. Ignoring the Indian girl, he studied Jane as if she were a four-leaf clover or an Olympic medal—something rare that he knew he should respect but didn’t.
    “So you’re here to save us from the Raven King?” the boy said.
    He was a few years older than Jane, maybe fifteen or sixteen, and he was American.
    “I don’t know,” Jane said. “No. I don’t think so.”
    “Are you going to throw plates and spoons at him?”
    Without looking up, the Indian girl said, “Give it a rest, Thomas.”
    “It’s a fair question,” Thomas said. “Gaius said she’s the one, didn’t he?”
    “Gaius doesn’t know,” the girl said. “No one does.” She smiled at Thomas. “Now please go away. I can’t read with you talking.”
    She pronounced can’t as cahn’t .
    “I don’t care who your family was,” Thomas told Jane. “You don’t belong here.”
    “Says the boy who’s late to every meal,” the Indian girl said.
    “Shut up, Manali.” Thomas looked like he wanted to say something else, but Jane sank low in her chair, eyes down, so he finally cleared his throat and left.
    “Sorry about that,” Manali said. She set down her book and offered Jane a hand to shake. “I’m Manali. I’m from Mumbai.”
    “You’re from India?” Jane shook her hand. “Wow, it must be so interesting to live there.”
    “It’s okay,” Manali said. “You’re American? My aunt is American, from New Jersey. I’ve only been there twice, and both times I got sick. Do people there really watch American football instead of ordinary football—you call it soccer , yeah?”
    “Yes, that’s right. I mean, yes, we do.”
    “Is it true what Gaius said—that your mother or someone saved the world?”
    “I don’t know,” Jane said. “I guess she might have—not my mother but maybe my grandmother. Who was that boy?”
    “Thomas? Oh, he’s older—you know how older boys are, yeah?” She smiled, as if they were sharing a private joke. “Their bodies are growing too fast for their brains.”
    “I didn’t want to come here,” Jane said. “But my grandmother…” She was suddenly about to cry and stopped herself. Everything was happening so quickly, as if Jane had accidentally slipped into a marathon without a chance to catch her breath.
    Manali patted Jane’s hand. “It’ll be all right. One of these kids will be strong enough to stop him—maybe you; maybe someone else. Gaius will figure out which one of us it is, and everything will be okay.”
    “The Raven King? What are we supposed to do—I don’t even know who he is.”
    “I wouldn’t worry about it right now. He’s a