Epilogue
Icame in from the sun-baked orchards, grateful for the temple’s cool shadows, to find Cassandra curled up in a hanging chair, a book in her hand and Crowlie in her lap, puffed up and fast asleep.
Had I not been struck still by the beauty of the woman, I wouldn’t have noticed two younger crows seated in a pattern above my uncharacteristically oblivious truth-teller.
Three crows, reminding me this woman’s fate was entangled inexorably with mine.
As unnecessary as the reminder was, it still filled me with joy so intense it hurt to think of it.
She turned a page, and Crowlie swayed on her lap, trusting her as she trusted me. It had taken Cassandra less than a year to win them over.
I turned the precious stone I’d traded for over in the palm of my hand, excited to show her, but loath to disrupt her.
We had all the time in the world, after all. I could wait for her book to droop.