Page 62 of Corvus and the Broken God

He handed me another.

Why are you feeding me? I asked.

I’m trying to convince you I’d make a good mate.

The best way to convince me would be to leave this place and go home.

We can’t leave.

I reached for the second slice, but he pulled it back and quickly gobbled it down. I could sense him smiling.

Tell me why. Is it because of your home on the mountaintop? I get why you love that place. I do. It’s a great spot, but there’s a big world out there. Couldn’t we find another spot? Someplace they won’t find us?

And then have them hunt us for the rest of our very long lives? Never able to rest at night for fear they’ll come for us the moment we lower our guard? He swallowed and turned his full attention on me. His eyes were parrot eyes, yet not. Even as an adorable bird, he had all the same intensity.

Have you ever been hunted, Corvus? Ever had someone chase you with the intent to kill, by someone relentless who will never give up until you’re dead?

No.

It’s a shitty way to live.

I looked away, my eyesight blurring until the surrounding leaves blended into a deep green. There was a story there. He spoke with too much conviction. The sky rumbled above us, and I ruffled my feathers, wishing I could be human again, if only for a few minutes. Only I didn’t have any clothes, and it wasn’t remotely safe.

He scooted over to me until his side brushed mine.

Don’t worry, little crow. I have a plan. He leaned over and plucked a non-existent bug from my feathers.

Are you going to tell me your plan?

Only if you ask nicely.

Praying for patience, I stared at the branches above me, fluffing my feathers to give him better access. He nibbled softly, cleaning my wing. It felt wonderful, like a deep-tissue massage. Giant raindrops beat out a loud tempo on the car-sized leaves around us.

Please, Oh Mighty Bat God, share your plan with your lowly parrot friend.

Well, it occurred to me I may know why they want to kill me.

Really?

I know something, something terrible, that, should I expose their secret, could endanger the livelihoods of several of my kind. Worst case, they would have to fake their deaths and rebuild new personas. Which would be an inconvenience, but, more importantly to them, could cause them to lose millions, possibly billions of dollars, and, even worse in their eyes, cause them to lose their current positions of power and influence.

Why wasn’t I surprised? Although something about what he said didn’t ring true.

Uh huh. When did this bad thing happen?

A few years ago.

Did someone die?

No. Well, not at the time.

Can you stop dancing around the issue and just tell me?

No.

No?

If I told you, then your life would be in peril too.