Page 21 of Corvus and the Broken God

Hmm. I would think about that later. He opened a recessed door and waved us inside. For a large room, it was almost cozy. The bed was high and covered in furs. A cheerful fire burned in the stone fireplace, and while the chair next to it was wooden, it looked comfortable, worn from much use, the arms rounded and almost soft. A modest stack of firewood sat within reach of both the fire and chair.

“The bathroom is through there and, if you get hungry, the kitchen is two doors down. I hope you will be comfortable during your stay.”

“Yes, thank you,” my friend said, looking around with satisfaction.

“You have plumbing?” I asked, dying to see his idea of a bathroom.

He steered me out of the room. “Who do you think I am, Corvus, a barbarian who defecates in his house? Come, let us discuss what it is you need.”

I turned to Mindy, who walked us to the door, watching us with a too-knowing look. “I’m fine. I’ll see you later.” She then shut the door in my face.

Whatever I had expected from our visit, this was not it. I looked around to find I was alone in the hallway. Where had he gone? I retraced my steps, giving in to the instinctual pull that led me back to him. He waited for me back in his warm den. I walked past him, doing my best to stay calm, and took the other chair.

You are about to overflow with questions. Let us have them.

I picked up my neglected glass of mead and took a sip. It had a mellow honey taste, reminding me of a summer meadow.

Yes, my friend, the Stag as you knew him, was particularly skilled at making mead. One of the many reasons I will miss him.

The Wolf killed him?

Yes.

He told me you did.

He shook his head, sorrow in his eyes. No, he was my friend.

I’m sorry.

As am I. Why do you want to be changed? He waved his hand from my head down my body.

I blinked, adjusting to his change of subject. The people who knew me no longer recognize me. I am too different. They’re denying me my job back. Taking credit for my work since I disappeared.

Do you miss your freckles? I thought you hated them.

What? How could he possibly know that? Had I been thinking it earlier?

Yes, actually, my kid self would never have believed it, but I miss my freckles.

And you like your job? You want to willingly work with people who do not understand you? Who do not see you? He tilted his head a smidge, looking truly curious.

I loved my work. The people, not so much, but I put up with them. I only just started getting the hang of the job, but once I did, I realized I had a purpose: to design buildings that matter. I looked around the room. Did you build this place?

Yes. A long time ago. Do you like it?

Very much. It’s a gorgeous building. I’ve never seen anything like it on this continent.

Nothing beautiful is being built any longer.

I was going to build something beautiful, something that had never been done.

And now you can’t because you look different?

Why did you tell Mindy to call you Benjamin?

Do you prefer Camazotz?

Are you really the ancient Mayan death god? Something changed in his eyes, reminding me of the little I had read, bringing to mind sacrifices and bloody Mayan ballgames.