Page 61 of Corvus and the Broken God

Are you going to stay here and get us some fruit while I get a closer look inside the house?

Will you stay in contact with me? I’m not kidding. I need to know you’re okay.

Fine.

Fine.

He nodded once before changing into a small dark bat and flying off into the late afternoon sky. The transformation was so quick I missed my chance to watch what he did. Not like when he turned into a falcon and then a parrot. That sneaky Monster had planned this ahead of time. He had let it slip a few times he wanted me to experience being a bat, but he had never made the time to teach me, back when we had nothing but time. And now he’d flown away before I had the chance to hold his feet to the fire and make him promise to keep me informed.

I did do that. I will hold up my end if you hold up yours.

I’m going to get fruit; I told you I would. Where should I meet you?

Find a tree that will keep us hidden for the day. Don’t worry, I will find you.

We had spent so much time together recently that I had forgotten how easy it was to find each other, but as he said it, I felt its tug telling me which direction he had gone.

Okay, fine. Be careful.

Always, Corvus. Be smart. Be safe.

With a sigh, I narrowed my sights on the rows of trees down before me. Maybe I could change into a crow to fit in better with the gently darkening night. The task he left me gave me something to occupy my mind with, something other than worry, because I could still sense his fear. My ruthless Monster being afraid told me all I needed to know.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Judgment

I eyed the evenly spaced rows of trees, the fruity scent drawing me in, hunger urging me on. My first flight was a low swoop to the nearest tree, loaded with ripe mangoes. The overwhelming sweet smell was hard to resist, but it wasn’t safe enough to eat. Not yet. First, I flew from tree to tree, aware of everything moving around me in the quiet night. The leaves rustled as I landed in each tree, and since my parrot body wasn’t the best at maneuvering, the long wing and tail feathers scraped the branches and made way too much noise. If someone happened to be watching when I changed form, they would report the transformation immediately. So, Parrot Freya I would remain. Although my crow body, smaller, sleeker, and black, called to me. Not that I would ever admit it to my Monster.

I inspected the fruit on each tree, most of which I didn’t recognize. One with a particularly strange smell looked more like a stone from outer space than a fruit, but my nose told me it tasted delicious. Finally, the only fruit I was strong enough to carry more than one of was from a guava tree loaded with ripe, fragrant globes. I grabbed one in each claw and raced up to look for a place to store my booty, choosing a high perch on a wide, lush tree with a convenient hole carved over a broad branch. Only when the small pear-shaped fruit spilled from my hiding space did I revisit the mango tree and indulge in its juicy flesh.

The rest of the night dragged by slowly. I did my best not to bug my Monster too much, asking for updates. Each time, he responded quickly, although he claimed to have nothing to report. It couldn’t be easy having to process everything as a bat and still respond to all my questions. Despite the late hour, the mansion was brightly lit, and most of the windows were open, so I hoped his spying would bear its own fruit.

I grew tired of waiting and flew closer to the house, examining it from all angles, hoping to get a better understanding of the layout. I’m not sure what I expected in a house owned by a demigod, but besides seeing a large, rectangular building with evenly placed windows, an Italianate manor built about a hundred years ago, it wasn’t all that unique. Other than admiring the beauty of the classic lines, the condition of the stucco, windows, and trim, which was surprisingly good for this humid and isolated locale, I learned nothing new about our mission from the safety of the trees. I didn’t dare go closer, not when the inhabitants were expecting to be approached by something with wings—something not acting as it should. And all normal parrots were hidden, fast asleep at this hour. So, I waited and waited some more, my eyes peeled on the night sky, searching for my bat.

I woke with a start that almost knocked me off balance. Dammit. I had fallen asleep. A giant green parrot sat close to me, and I jumped. Then I remembered. He wasn’t giant—I was parrot-sized. A sigh wheezed out through my beak, and a single round eye opened next to me. Great, my panic had woken my Monster.

Settle down, Corvus. Everything is fine.

Says the man who is willingly walking into a trap.

He untucked his head from his wing and shook his feathers, watching me closely with one round, unblinking eye.

Did you discover anything?

No. They were expecting me to spy. Every conversation I overheard was inane and irrelevant. Just like us, they had weeks to prepare. Years even.

He flapped his wings and flew to my other side, putting his head into the hole where I stashed the fruit. When had I flown back here? I remembered nothing after spying on the big house and drifting asleep. Green tail feathers bobbed as he pulled out a large avocado and began peeling the thick, dark skin with his beak. He had no trouble balancing on one foot, holding the fruit steady with the other, and gently removing strips of skin without cutting into the flesh. Every few seconds, I’d get a waft of its rich scent, but I watched him work silently.

We need to leave, I said finally. This was a terrible idea.

He cocked his head and turned back to his task, delicately opening the fruit with his beak. He separated a large chunk and held it out to me.

I stared at him.

Take it, Corvus, before I fall off the branch.

I took the avocado meat, flustered. My sharp beak tore through the flesh easily, and I swallowed the giant piece in a couple of bites.