Page 49 of Corvus and the Broken God

Camazotz looked around in wonder while I checked us in. I tried to take it in through his eyes but couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. Maybe I would take him to Disneyland once we survived our ordeal to really mess with his head. But when we finally entered our oceanfront room, complete with a wall of glass showing nothing but glittering blue, anxiety crept over me. We were traveling as husband and wife. It made sense to book a single room with one big bed. But I hadn’t considered what it would mean when it came time to sleep. Would we even be sleeping here, or would he decree we turn into shorebirds and begin our reconnaissance on our first night?

I dropped my bag on the bed and turned to find him standing at the slider, admiring the view. The ocean was a color I’d only seen in pictures, the impossible, light azure too beautiful to be real. Was that the real color, or was I processing my strange world differently now?

“Should I bother unpacking, or are we heading out tonight?”

He turned and looked at me, dark eyes unnerving. “Let us do what our alter egos would do.”

“You mean go down and eat dinner and then get stupid drunk?”

“Is the last part important?”

“Depends on whether or not you want to sell our personas.”

“Then yes, let’s convince the world we are two ordinary humans here to act like imbeciles.”

I laughed, unable to stop myself. When he offered me his arm, I took it.

The hotel restaurant was filling up by the time we were seated at our table overlooking the pool. I ordered a pitcher of top-shelf margaritas and some appetizers while we looked over the menu. I ordered him carne asada and a large salad for myself, since I was not getting enough leafy greens while existing on his mountaintop. When the waiter left us to our chips, salsa, and giant margarita glasses, I took a large gulp of the sweetened tequila water, let out a sigh, and leaned back in my chair.

“Content, Corvus?”

“Please believe me when I say calling me Corvus will not help us blend in. If you must stick to the crow analogy, then how about Raven? At least that sounds like a normal name.”

“I prefer crows to ravens.”

I rolled my eyes and finished my margarita. Camazotz poured me another glass, having taken a long sip from his goblet and finding it satisfactory.

“Guess you’ll have to call me Morrigan then.”

“As you wish, Corvus.”

He looked around while I munched on the guacamole.

“I don’t see anyone wearing a shirt like mine,” he said eventually.

“No, you’re probably right. You have the most colorful one, that’s for sure.”

“And yet your dress looks a lot like what the other women are wearing.”

“What’s your point?”

“I am worried you are not taking this trip seriously.”

I burst out laughing. His eyes narrowed, but instead of yelling at me, he only frowned.

“Drink your cocktail, Benny. This may be our last night of fun, and we deserve to live it up. You’re much too serious.”

“Benny?”

“Don’t bother shooting daggers at me, Mister Bat God Man. We are here to fit in. No one’s going to believe our disguises if I call you by your real name.”

Hush, Corvus. Talk about something else.

He spoke forcefully in my head but casually scanned the restaurant, hardly turning his head.

“See, I told you not to leave your sunglasses in the room. Light sensitivity isn’t restricted to daytime.”

Good. Keep going.