Page 59 of By the Orchid and the Owl
“Where are you, oh glorious moon?” sang a cricket.
“Let us out! Let us out!”cried the mice, reminding me painfully of Willa, while the fish and frogs and snails rambled meaninglessly.
The peahens, on the other hand, were gossiping amongst themselves, something about a peacock who’d cheated on one of them with a heron.
“Your first Predators & Prey test,” Mr. Conine said over this jumble of conversation, “is to find out what our owl friend here would like for dinner. If you can unleash the appropriate quarry for him to feast on, you pass.”
“What?” I said, sounding dumb to even my own ears.
Calmly, Mr. Conine reworded himself.
“A huge part of being a Wild Whisperer is the ability to correctly interpret animal desires based on their unique form of communication. This owl,” he said with an upward nod, “is hungry, and wishes for a specific meal. Your task is to figure out which meal, out of all the ones before you, he would like you to release so he can hunt.”
My stomach actually flopped at the thought of that—of lifting any of these lids or opening any of these cage doors, just to watch the owl dive and tear through whatever animal I had just forced out into danger. It was cruel, but brilliant.
Because owls, Mr. Conine had taught us, never spoke in a straightforward manner. With any other animal, I could simply ask which of these scurrying or slithering options they wanted, but owls only spoke in riddles and timeless wisdom. I’d have to navigate metaphors and life lessons to get to the root of his desires.
“Begin,” Mr. Conine said.
I looked up at the owl, trying to drown out the cacophony of all the other animals. “Hello!”
The owl’s head quirked toward mine. “Pleasantries are on the horizon,” it hooted, “but so is danger.”
“Right.” I swept a hand toward the hubbub of the room. “Would you like me to get you something to eat?”
“I wouldn’t be a fool to say yes.”
“Okay.” I paused, sorting out that phrase and flipping it around. Yes, he wanted me to get him something to eat. “What would you like?” I was reminding myself of a waitress, but… this was it. The first real test that didn’t involve paper and pen.
The owl fluffed its wings. “I’m craving something crunchy, but without bones.”
Crunchy, but without bones? My eyes strayed around the room, until they landed on the aquarium of snails. Snails didn’t have bones, did they? Just those swirling shells? And I wouldn’t feel too guilty about feeding a snail to an owl, to be honest.
Not like how I’d feel if I opened that mouse cage.
I started toward the aquarium, but the owl added, “Something that would one day become something else if left unharmed.Perhaps a flying beauty.”
My footsteps faltered. A flying beauty? Obviously, snails didn’t fly, so I’d have to scratch that option out.
Transformation had to be the key. The first thought that came to mind regardingthatwas a caterpillar, but… I stooped low to examine a single jar of the squirming creatures on a spindly table.
They wouldn’t be crunchy. Acocoonmight have fit the bill for both requests, but nothing like a cocoon hung among the makeshift branches and leaves in the jar.
The owl’s neck snapped this way and that before his orange-sharp eyes landed on me again. “It’s something that needs eternal warmth, but lives in darkness.”
Just like that, Fergus’s black mold bloomed in my mind’s eye again: a creeping toxicity that savored warmth and moisture and dark things like Fergus’s own heart.
I shook my head. No. Owls didn’t eat mold. I had to push what Fergus had done far away again, focus on my task at hand.
Warmth and darkness. That sounded like the perfect habitat for worms, which definitely didn’t have bones but also couldn’t fly or give the owl a nice crunch.
God, I was going to fail my first Predators & Prey test.Whycouldn’t it just give me a straight answer or point or something, the lousy bird? Maybe if I followed his eye contact…
No, the owl was staring atmeunblinkingly, not any of the cages.
Think, Rayna, think.
I circled the mass of prisons again, hunting for any hints or signs I’d missed the first time.
