Page 64 of The Guardians of Dreamdark
Talon spun to see, and he stared, transfixed. “That?” he asked, surprised.
“What, you’ve never seen one?” Magpie asked.
“Nay,” he answered, craning his neck for a clear view of the human lass. She had yellow hair braided back and wore a white frock and shiny shoes. “Doesn’t look like a killer,” he observed, “and she’s not so big as I thought.”
“She’s a real small one. Pretty, too. They’re not all, you know. Mannies can be devious ugly. And the smell? Devils got nothing on an unwashed human!” They watched the lass for a moment in silence. She sat herself daintily on a patch of grass and began spinning the wheels of a little toy she’d brought with her.
“First one I ever saw wasn’t pretty at all,” Magpie said. “He was a great, gnarled, evil-eyed brute with a matted black beard and all reeking of brew...” She realized Talon wasn’t listening. He was still staring at the human lass, but he’d squinted his eyes and now he stood and leapt nimbly to a higher branch for a clearer view.
She followed him on wing. “What is it?”
He was still squinting. “That thing she’s got,” he said, not breaking his gaze from the lass.
“The toy?”
“It’s no toy. I know it well.”
“What do you mean?” Magpie squinted at it too.
“It’s my granny’s surrey, from the castle. I haven’t seen it since I was wee. How the skiffle did that come here?”
“I can guesshow,” Magpie said, her voice hard, “but not why. That meat wouldn’t dare go back down the well!”
“Who?” Talon asked.
“Crows!” Magpie called, and they all fluttered round. “It seems that gobslotch of a scavenger is in the neighborhood.”
“Ach!” Pup puffed up. “That irkmeat?”
“The one who escaped the dungeon?” Talon asked.
Magpie nodded. “Talon, he’s vermin, but he’s cunning vermin. He was in service to the Blackbringer, though sure not of his own free will. His master sent him to the Magruwen for something; he said it was a turnip—”
“A turnip?”
“Aye, of all the blither! We need to find out what the Blackbringer was really after. Let’s find that scavenger, crows.”
“Now?” asked Pigeon, scratching his head. “What about the Magruwen?”
Magpie chewed her lip and said slowly, “He’s not going to just offer to help us. I got to convince him, and I want to know as much as I can know first. I got a feeling this thing the Blackbringer’s after is important.”
“All right, ’Pie.” Calypso sighed. “But I want ye to wait here and have a rest whilst we search.”
Magpie rolled her eyes. “Feather—”
“Feather, nothing,” he said sternly. “Rest.” He turned to Talon. “Lad, ye’ll see to it?”
Talon looked back and forth between the stubborn faerie and stern crow. He shrugged helplessly.
“Good lad,” said Calypso, spreading open his wings. “We’ll have a look around. Come on, blackbirds!” The crows burst squawking from the trees.
As soon as they were gone, Magpie said to Talon, “Let’s go.”
“Go? Calypso said—”
“Ach, you think I’m going to sit here? There’s something else you should know. This imp? He was there when your folk met his master!”
Talon was still, his face frozen, staring back at Magpie. “Indeed,” he said quietly. Suddenly he stood. “What’s he look like, this creature?”
