Chapter 18
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.
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.
So, you know something they don’t want you to know.
Exactly.
And you think you’re going to convince them you won’t tell anyone. That these supernatural creatures, who are plotting to kill you, would just say, okay, no problem, we believe you when you say you’ll keep our secret.
No, Corvus, that isn’t the plan. I thought you wanted to hear it.
Just tell me already.
Okay, I thought I’d offer to stay on my mountain for the next fifty years, cut off from everyone. That way, by the time I rejoined the world, the crime would become irrelevant in the eyes of those who cared. No longer able to hurt anyone.
I thought about it. Voluntary house arrest? His plan sounded reasonable, except for all the holes. And I still didn’t quite believe him.
How would they know you are actually on your mountain?
It’s like the alarm I have currently, only I’d let them set it out a couple hundred miles, because I’d still need to be able to fly. If I crossed the boundary, then they would know.
How likely is it they’ll go for it?
Well, the truth is while many of us tend to discard human lives in a way that I find intolerable, we are not so quick to kill one another. Most of us have rather high opinions of our kind, even those who don’t quite fit the mold.
Now that made a perverse sort of sense to me. How confident are you that they don’t really plan to kill you?
I don’t think they actually plan to kill me, Corvus, not the majority anyway. Punish me? That I can see. I thought I would stroll in there tonight and go along with their show; let them have their mock trial. I have a few ideas to help convince them, but now I have a question for you.
I can hardly contain myself.
He leaned over and bit my neck.
Ouch.
My question, dear Corvus, is, do you mind waiting fifty years before we go see the world?
Are you asking me to share your self-imposed prison term with you?
I was going for something more romantic.
Don’t hurt yourself.
Think of it this way. If you get sick of me, you can always leave me behind. Maybe come back periodically to check on me.
God, he was serious. But it was so risky. His reasoning might be based on centuries of experience, but I was still afraid.
Fine. Just make sure you convince them. I’m ready to be human again.
I am ready for some more Jeep sex.
Well, convince them to let you go back to your mountain, and we can have Jeep sex as often as you want.
That’s my Corvus. Now I just need you to promise me something.
The fine feathers on the back of my neck stood up.