Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
The Fable
Looking through the branches of a large tree and knowing I could maneuver my way down it in seconds would take getting used to, but the interaction with the Wolf had changed my situation.
I was no longer completely alone. Spotting a branch about halfway down, still well out of the reach of claw and fang, I leapt for it, catching it with the tips of my talons but ultimately grabbing it.
The wolf watched me closely. A strand of saliva forming at the edge of his mouth stretched toward the ground.
A good reminder of exactly what he was. The branch shook from my clumsy landing, the pine needles releasing their sharp, fresh scent into the air.
In the distance, I heard the loud discussions of my fellow crows back in the tree where they liked to congregate, but I shut their noises out.
He was an ordinary wolf, if such a magnificent creature could be called such.
As frightening as I imagined it would be to come face to face with him in my former life, I was much smaller now, and my entire body would easily fit in his mouth.
My life gone in a single bite. I gripped the branch firmly, regretting my decision to come closer.
He licked his lips and sat down, once again disarming me with his relaxed body language. How well did he know birds? Could he see how stressed I was?
How long have you been a wolf? I asked him.
That is an excellent question. And since I saw you come by this way yesterday, in your other form, I will do you a courtesy and answer your question. Of course, without any way to keep track of the days except by the changing seasons, my best guess is four months.
Four months? He just changed you and then forgot all about you?
Oh no, my little crow. That is not what happened at all, but this is what you want to know, right? What will become of you?
He was right. I did want to know if the demon on the hill would come looking for me one day, forget all about my existence, or if he would consider changing me back. Although I suspected I knew the answer.
I will tell you everything you need to know. How to survive, what motivates the monster, and how to possibly get us turned back into humans.
You will?
Yes. All I ask is one favor.
The feathers at the base of my neck began to tingle, and I looked up at the sky, searching for a clear place to take flight, but he spoke again.
No, nothing like what you fear. All I ask is that you come meet me here again tomorrow. So I will have someone to talk to. I’ve been so lonely.
I couldn’t afford to believe him, the still wolf looking too innocent below me, but it didn’t sound like too big a request. As long as I didn’t fall, I would be safe.
Agreed, I said.
Good. His mouth opened into a wide grin. Today, I will tell you the basics of what you want to know. Tomorrow you’ll get the nuances, and you can ask questions.
I bobbed my head. Seemed fair enough.
First, you need to understand that if he can catch you, he will eat you.
Because he can sense our emotions, those of us with enough brains to fear dying make the best meal.
That way, he can feed off our agony as well as our flesh.
You must stay away from him, especially at night, since he sleeps most of the day.
If you see him coming, stay calm. He won’t be able to pick you out from the flock by eyesight.
You must pretend you’re a crow. Convince yourself, and he won’t be able to distinguish you from the rest. The second thing you need to know is this: If you find a way to survive for one year, the curse will be lifted, and you will be human again.
Now, it may sound easy to do, especially for you.
You could just fly away, and he’ll never be able to find you.
That was exactly what I was thinking, fly back to my home and wait out the year.
But if you cross over the boundary of his territory, then you will lose all your humanity.
You will be a crow forever and never know the difference. The curse will take permanent effect.
Where is the boundary?
It’s a few miles away from here. So stay close, and I will see you tomorrow.
And after dropping that on my head, he melted into the forest underbrush. Upset and craving companionship, I flew off to find my fellow crows and to raid the blackberry bushes for some supper.
The crows congregated in three large sycamore trees near the edge of the Monster’s wall, loudly discussing the minutiae of their day as the afternoon light faded to dusk.
I searched high and low before finally choosing a spot near the wide trunk, where a creature of his size would have a hard time reaching me, but I could still keep an eye out for him.
The crows all around me would kick up a fuss if he disturbed them.
He had resumed his rock-form, looking exactly like a piece of the mountain.
Even knowing what he was, I couldn’t make out his head, horns, or shoulders.
What type of creature was he? A demon? Was his kind the basis for most of our contemporary religions?
What did he do at night besides feed on unsuspecting animals?
Never having been overly invested before in animals' daily lives, I was filled with a burst of compassion for them, for the constant danger in which they lived from morning to night. If he targeted an animal, they’d be helpless against him.
One by one, the crows quieted, settling into feathery shapes perfectly balanced on their chosen branches high off the ground.
Their large size, compared to my own, which threw me off in the beginning for obvious reasons, now comforted me.
My feet gripped my own branch, though I worried about relaxing my grip in my sleep, should it ever come.
Why couldn’t I understand them? It all sounded the same to me.
Caw, caw, caw. Sure, there were differences of sound, some shorter, some longer, some deeper, some louder, but what did any of it mean?
They were certainly a social bunch, and seeing them up close, I was beginning to tell them apart.
Maybe I should treat this as an opportunity.
How many bird scientists—crap, I didn’t even know what they were called—would kill for an opportunity like this?
To study the crows for a year, to get the inside scoop.
One year. Staying alive for twelve months couldn’t be that hard.
It was early summer, and food was everywhere, but I was capable of rational thought.
Surely, I could make it through the winter.
Or did the crows leave for warmer climates?
A worry for another day, still far away.
The crow next to me ruffled its feathers and settled in to sleep, a dark, comforting presence.
I drifted in thought, worries of my old life still in the forefront of my brain, but when I looked back to check on the boulder, he was gone.
I couldn’t fall back asleep, too restless since I could no longer keep an eye on him.
Also, I wasn’t as confident as my fellows that I wouldn’t lose my balance in my sleep and fall to the ground.
I scoured the place he had once sat, still as a rock.
The space was now flat and vacant. The moon had risen, illuminating the courtyard in the distance.
My memories of the night before were crystal clear until he transformed me, and everything about our encounter seemed so loud.
How had he snuck away without me hearing him?
Now that I knew he fed off my emotions and he could find me if I panicked, it was impossible not to do exactly that.
How was I supposed to pretend I was just another crow when the fear inside me became unmanageable?
I shuffled closer to the trunk of the tree, its massive branches reaching out in all directions to protect me. Except they couldn’t. The Monster could fly too. He was massive and powerful, so it wouldn’t be difficult for him to shred his way through the branches to reach me.
I hopped from one foot to the next in agony. The crow nearest me flew off to a lower branch. I was disgusted by my anxiety, but what to do?
Unwilling to disturb the sleep of the kind birds who had helped me, I risked a night flight up to the ruins. If he were out searching for me, this would be the last place he’d look. Hopefully.
The moon shone brighter than I had ever seen it, illuminating the ground far below me. I caught an updraft and threw myself at the sky, enjoying the freedom for a few brief seconds until fear of falling curbed my excitement. It could be glorious to be a bird.
I flew as low as I dared, unsure if I would be easier to spot up high or down low.
Not too low, the wall was twenty feet below me, but not high enough to attract any large, winged beasts on the prowl.
With his dark skin and black wings, he could be anywhere.
Just watching and waiting. I looked for a place to land, toes spread, wings raised, causing me to plunge.
I was starting to get the hang of this flying thing.
I had gotten too cocky, aiming for a small alcove under the front roof overhang.
But the ledge was narrow, and my toes scrabbled as they tried to grab purchase.
I almost fell to the ground, barely catching the air at the last moment and climbing back up into the sky.
The roof would be easier and would give me space where I could watch and wait.
For I, too, was black. Much smaller than him, I could melt into a small space where his giant fist couldn’t reach.