Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
The Stag
You left? You didn’t wait to hear what the other creature wanted?
Believe me, you wouldn’t have stayed. Anyone in their right mind would have fled the premises.
The Wolf shook his head. You fool. He wanted to scare you. So you wouldn’t know what the Stranger wanted.
He was probably right. I had the same thought when I finally nestled into a spot back in the heart of the plane tree and the relative safety of my fellow crows. Didn’t you tell me yesterday he plans to eat me someday soon, and the icing will be tasting my fear?
The Wolf paced below me, visibly upset.
Look, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. He scares me even when I’m just talking about him. When he’s close enough to kill me, I can’t think straight.
He stopped and looked up at me. Do you think the other Monster is still here?
I shrugged my wings, annoyed that he was annoyed with me. We were supposed to be in this leaky boat together.
Will you check tonight?
Sure.
Why didn’t he check if he was so brave? I knew better than to say it to him though, getting the hang of the mind speak connecting us to Camazotz.
I missed my phone and the ability to look up what or who Camazotz was in our cultural histories.
And why was I keeping his name a secret?
This Wolf was supposed to be my ally against the big bad creature at the top of the hill.
I didn’t trust him. Either of them. The beautiful creature paced below me, deep in thought.
Morning sun filtered through the summer green leaves. I yawned.
What story do you have for me today?
My question yanked him from his musings. He sat down and looked up at me, twenty feet from his giant mouth laden with white fangs.
You’re going to give me a crick in my neck. Come closer.
You don’t have to look at me to tell me the story. I can hear you just fine from here.
His mouth opened into a grin. At least he had a sense of humor.
Okay, fine. You’ll see soon enough who you can trust. And who you can’t.
I yawned again. Get on with it; the day is wasting. After this, I would try to get some sleep while the Monster, Camazotz, slept too.
As if he heard my last thought, he shook his head. Then he settled down on the ground, no longer straining to meet my gaze.
Okay, today I will tell you about the other one who was like us.
He was here before I showed up, a mountain man from nearby.
His name was Brandon. His family had owned the land due north of here for over a century.
They kept to themselves and lived off the land.
The Monster’s territory bordered their lands on three sides.
You can see the log house from the top of the ridge.
He pointed behind him with his snout. Even from my high perch, all I could see were trees.
Because he was solitary like his family, he never found a wife or a lover.
One by one, all his living relatives died off.
He mourned them and then went on with his life.
He was a simple man. He hunted and fished, cultivated a small garden, and only drove his old truck into town once a month in order to get supplies.
But he was a well-read man, surprisingly so, and a kind man, a bit na?ve.
While he didn’t mingle much with the rest of us, he saw the best in everyone he met.
One day, when out chopping wood, his axe slipped and wedged its blade into his leg. He slumped down to the ground in agony. There was no one to help him. If he pulled the axe free, he would quickly bleed to death. He couldn’t move from the pain. He wondered if he would die there, all alone.
A few hours later, the Monster showed up.
Bran thought he was dying, and it was the devil himself who came for him.
He wasn’t wrong, although not quite how he thought.
The Monster offered him a deal. He would transform him into a Stag and save his life.
If he managed to survive for a year, then he would turn back into a man and go back to his life.
And if he didn’t survive?
The wolf looked up at me, a glint in his eye.
Then Brandon’s property, the land that had been in his family for generations, would belong to the Monster.
I shook my head. How dreadful. Before the horrible truth could sink in, he continued.
He took the deal and was transformed into a magnificent Stag.
I wasn’t a hunter, so I’m not sure how best to describe him, by the points on his antlers or whatever.
I saw him only a few times, and he was impressive.
Tall, perfectly muscled, quick, and athletic.
A formidable creature. I watched him speaking with The Monster a couple times, and they appeared to have long discussions.
I couldn’t hear what was happening in their heads, and The Monster didn’t seem too interested in talking to me, but I watched.
From the outside, it was impossible to predict what would happen.
He paused and looked up at me, straining his neck.
What happened?
Can’t you come a little closer? This is just rude, making me strain to see you.
I hopped down a few branches closer, still well out of his reach, but he seemed satisfied.
So, when The Monster sprang from seemingly out of nowhere, landed on the back of the magnificent Stag, latched onto his neck, and wrestled him to the ground, it was such a shock that I froze.
Instead of helping, I watched as he broke the stag’s back, blood spurted to the ground, his knees collapsed, followed by the rest of him.
He was dead within a minute, the life leaving his large, surprised eyes.
Like you, I fled. I never knew if he ate the flesh or buried it on the land he stole.
I pondered the story, feeling sorry for a man I had never met. Why did he change us?
What?
I know it’s screwed up to save his life only for a little while in order to get the land. But you and me? Why did he change us?
Why don’t you ask him that? You think he confides in me?
I tilted my head, trying to read the wolf. He stayed still, watching me with luminous eyes.
Go. Check and see if the second one is still here. See if you can discover anything that will help us and let me know tomorrow.
I bobbed my head. He disappeared into the thick forest brush, but it felt like he or something was still watching me.
I flew back toward the building at the top of the hill.
I needed to get some sleep. Wandering around tired would only get me killed.
Especially since Camazotz was nowhere to be seen.
The abandoned gates with their guardian gargoyles passed beneath me, and I continued toward the main structure, flapping and gliding down to land.
I perched on the outer wall and surveyed the large building.
The back section, of which I had seen a little of the night before, was low and squat, with actual buttresses holding up the heavy stone walls.
They were thick and functional, predating the elegant flying buttresses of the more famous Gothic style.
The windows were narrow and angled, as if bowmen waited in the shadows to fight off an approaching army.
Not all had glass, but the ones that did were leaded, tiny diamonds on point in neat rows.
The front portion looked like an old church, complete with a tower on the far-right side, but despite having a long set of openings for windows, I didn’t see a bell or any religious iconography.
I knew better than to go in there. The Wolf’s story played in the back of my head.
As if I needed any other reason to fear the creature who had transformed me and threatened to eat me.
And yet the strange structure called to me.
Who had built it several hundred years before Europeans arrived on this continent?
The Monster? But why had he let it crumble?
Curiosity ate at me, mixed with a sense of recognition I couldn’t explain, compelling me to move closer. I could take a quick look before retreating to a safe tree for some rest.
My wings moved before my common sense could take the upper hand, and I flew in through the open front door, landing softly inside the large space.
The old stone floors were covered in a layer of dirt, but otherwise, the room was empty.
Two stories tall, the ceiling pitched with a row of arches and a matching row of tall openings for windows.
I could picture how they would’ve looked with stained glass, only in my imagination, they held pagan images, horned gods, instead of the usual religious iconography.
I took my time and looked around, telling myself I wouldn’t go deeper into the house.
At the far end of the wide space was a corridor. The night before, I had found him inadvertently on the left side of the house, in the back. I knew I shouldn’t go down the dark hallway. As far as terrible ideas went, this was up there.
Something called me though, a physical tug toward the room the two creatures had been in the night before.
Freya, get it together, weirdo, you know better than to do this.
Procrastinating, I examined the materials used to build the heavy walls.
In some places, the stone walls were covered in some sort of adobe or plaster mixture.
It, too, was ancient, chipping off and missing in places.
I listened for some indication I wasn’t alone, but the place was eerily silent. He had been up late entertaining and should be asleep. Maybe I could just take a quick look, see if I could find that room again.
While the open door let in some light to the cavernous room in the front of the house, the left-side corridor was much darker.
I studied the ceiling. There wasn’t a single speck of light leaking in from above.
He was keeping up with the roof, even as he ignored obvious repairs like windows.
I flew to the end of the room and peeked down the hallway.
The narrow hallway had an arched ceiling, an old-fashioned method for distributing the load of the roof.
Everywhere I looked, I received confirmation it was much older than any other building on the continent.
The long, narrow windows didn’t let in much light or fresh air, wide enough for an archer to protect the area between the outer wall and the main castle.
Spaced out about twenty feet or more to my right were various styles of doors.
They were all shut and too heavy for a bird to open.
My excursion could be ending before I reached my destination.
At the far end of the long hallway was a giant wooden door.
The oak door was firmly shut, but this time, when I flapped my way up to the open rafters, I grabbed the wall’s edge easily.
I was getting the hang of flying and landing, but the moment of satisfaction was brief.
I didn’t want to get too comfortable as a crow. No matter how much I could love flying.
I surveyed the room below me. The fire had burned down to embers, and none of the candles were lit.
The windows were covered in thick brocade curtains, so it took a few minutes for my eyes to adjust. When they finally did, I spotted my Monster hunched over in one of the large chairs next to the fire.
He looked almost peaceful, muscles relaxed except for a worry line on his forehead, so I studied him.
His features were large, like everything about him, but even and strongly defined.
Asleep he looked the most human, although I’d never tell him that.
Corvus, what do you want?
Shit. How did he know I was there?
Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.
He sat up. Well-sculpted arms reached up, and he indulged in a long, hard stretch.
No bother. He twisted his thickly muscled torso. I hadn’t meant to sleep here.
Is your friend gone?
He finally looked up at me. Friend? Chaac is no friend of mine. But in answer to your questions, yes, he is gone. For now.
I should’ve left. My mission had been accomplished, and I could report back to the Wolf that the Stranger was gone. My curiosity sated for now, and I was dead on my skinny feet. Instead, I watched him, his magnetism drawing me to him.
Why a crow?
Excuse me?
You could have changed me into any animal. Why a crow?
That was your choice.
What a cop-out. I had absolutely no choice in the matter. I knew it. He knew it. My anger grew as he smothered the last of the fire. I wasn’t sure why I had asked him about it in the first place, why I expected him to tell me the truth.
I am telling you the truth. Your form took on the characteristics most like you.
So, you’re saying I’m a pest.
He stopped cleaning the fireplace and turned to look at me. Really look at me. What little he could see.
What are you talking about?
Shit. He looked upset. Too bad. I was angry.
Crows are like rats with wings. They eat carrion. They’re noisy and make a mess. They are good for nothing but being exterminated.
He tilted his head as he considered my words.
Curiosity softened his face. It made me madder.
Then, to push me over the edge, he smiled.
From my tight spot in the rafters, I could barely move, even though I wanted to hop and flap my ugly crow wings.
I was close to losing control, only remembering at the last minute to do so was suicide.
What if I told you crows are highly intelligent animals, gregarious, caring, innovative, and, best of all, they can fly? I have always liked crows. They band together to take care of their young, have a highly evolved social structure, and, he paused, they are beautiful.
His words shocked me as I absorbed them. He clearly knew more about the birds than I did. Is a compliment from a Monster still a compliment?
He chuckled and walked out the door that led to the back section of the building, leaving me perched in my tight spot, wondering what had just happened.