Page 43 of By the Orchid and the Owl
Three of them flitted down and zipped around my head as I walked.
“Yes?”
“Yes?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think one of you could send this letter for me? To my father in Alderwick?” I held out the sealed envelope… which looked much too big for a honeycreeper.
“Oh, no, we’re not strong enough for that,” one of them chirped. “But hold on! Let me get one of the crows. They’re too bored and grumpy for their own good anyways.They need something to do.”
All three of them whizzed away.
I stopped, waiting in the middle of Bascite Boulevard, until one of the honeycreepers returned with a large-billed crow, who flapped itself to my feet.
“What do you want?” the crow squawked.
“To ask if you would send a letter for me.”
Willa had told me back in the study chamber that though birds of all species were social creatures, they didn’t affiliate with any one side of a human conflict and therefore could be trusted to deliver a message—but only if they felt like it. I was not to goad any of them too much.
The crow cocked its head. “Say please.”
Okay, then. If that was what he wanted…
“Please, oh mighty crow, would you brave the rough and stormy skies to send a letter for me? I would be eternally grateful.”
I’d meant to dramatize it, but even as I said it, a raindrop plopped on my head.
The crow’s beak seemed to smile. “I don’t need that much pizazz, but since you asked nicely… sure. Name and address?”
After I had given him instructions and he’d clamped the letter in his talons, I added, “If you happen to see the tiger Jagaros on your journey, tell him I say hi!”
“Absolutely not.” The crow ruffled his feathers. “We aerial creatures do not dare speak to the king of Eshol. He would tear our beaks off just for sport.”
And the crow flew away, up into the drizzling sky.
I stood there, staring after him as rain peppered my face. King of Eshol? Neither Mr. Fenway nor Mr. Conine had ever mentioned a monarchy among the animals of the island, and Jagaros himself had certainly never mentioned being king… although I supposed there hadn’t been much time for him to give me much backstory, what with the crowds of thousands staring at us.
I made a mental note to ask my instructors about it on Monday—or maybe I’d just ask Willa once I made it back to the house—and turned toward Quinn’s again.
Only to find her already standing there in the street, facing me.
CHAPTER
16
“Quinn?”
I stepped toward her, wiping a string of wet hair from my face.
Something was off about her appearance. She still wore party clothes, and though her ruby-red hair was slightly more ruffled than usual, it was… dry, I realized. Quinn was dry.
She let me approach and, when I’d stopped before her, said, “Rayna. How nice to see you.” The words didn’t match her tone, though, as if a wary mask shielded her true feelings. “I was going back to my house when I saw you…?”
The silence stretched, and I realized she was asking for an explanation.
“A crow,” I said rather lamely. “I was talking to a crow.”
