Craawww! Craawww! The signal came from the lab. He wanted to gloat. He imagined all the thanks Dr. Billing would effuse, the words she would scribe to accept his help. The relief on her face when she saved her poor pup with his formula. An esteemed veterinary pathologist like her was an undeniable catch.

In the lab, his companions were shifty, uncomfortable. He wordlessly connected with the crow outside the human’s workplace. Another human was pushing a trash receptacle through the door. On top of the pile was a little red envelope, wax seal broken. The note a crow had delivered after Qadaire pushed a thread of magic through their bond to open the window.

“What in the nine rings?”

He hadn’t expected this outcome. Hadn’t calculated for it. There’d been a countless number of humans over the years, and not a single one had denied him. There’d been some who pushed back, asked for further proof, but once it was provided, they’d giddily accepted. Was she a fool?

Whatever she was, she was an anomaly.

Qadaire smoothed his head feathers back, two hands gripping the stems there. He extended a claw and tapped it against the table. He’d wasted so much time on Dr. Billing. He’d been hopeful to be a part of her legacy. He was proud to lend his knowledge to the worthy woman who outwitted everyone in her field, regardless of her strange tics.

It was completely out of character for him to feel this disappointed by rejection. He’d never felt more than bored necessity toward a candidate. This was different. He wanted her to behold his work, to proudly claim it as her own. He had no doubt she would find the answers herself, eventually, but why refuse when it could be hers now?

His wounded pride shrank into darkness. He could send his note to another in her staff. He could time it perfectly so that she knew her colleague had accepted his help and received the glory. How foolish she would feel then!

“Another note. One of her staff. How foolish she’ll feel!” His thoughts casually bumbled from his lips.

His friends protested. Some squawked while others flew away. They didn’t want another scientist. They wanted her.

“Yes, yes, I wanted her, too!” he shouted, four arms thrown toward the ceiling. “There are hundreds of people working on this. We’ll expand our search. There was a man who visited her facility. Find him. Perhaps he is more amenable.”

With much resistance, the decision settled into his feathers. His bruised ego wanted to shame her for rejecting him, but he knew better. It was best to seek the individual most likely to be believed, which was never a random nobody. He set to work on his old, beaten-up laptop. There was much to be done now.

He couldn’t douse his disappointment. He peered through the crow’s sight again, hoping to see her reconsider. Her brow was furrowed, her lips smashed together like she’d tasted something sour. As the crow flew away, he saw a look of utter despair cross her pale features.

That look threw gasoline on the candle in his core until it was a flaming brazier.

Chapter Three

Cassandra

Another day. Another disappointment.

“Hey, buddy.” She set her bag and keys down and crawled to the table Zero was hiding under. He lifted his head to lick her face, his tail twitching on the floor.

She cuddled him under the table for a while before having dinner, dressing down, and getting into bed. She didn’t have to whistle or call his name. Zero heard the rustle of the pages and then he was on the end of her bed. Cass read aloud while Zero began to droop. She reached an interesting point in the story that detailed some lore behind the dragon race, which was too interesting for sleep to claim her quite yet.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Cass instinctively glanced at the sound, but the window was covered by blinds. She ignored it and continued to read.

Tap. Tap tap. Tap.

This time she glanced at Zero, who was alert and trained on the window.

Tap tap tap tap. Tap tap.

“What the fuck?” Cass huffed and set her book down, spine open, on the bed. She hauled the blinds up and glared at the crow on her windowsill. “Dude, what are you doing? Shoo! Shoo!”

She tapped the glass, but the crow didn’t budge. Another flew up, placed a shiny copper penny on the sliding ledge in the middle of the window, then settled on the sill beside his buddy.

Cass blanched. The bright penny was not the only offering on the ledge. There was a button, a quartz crystal, and something that resembled an earring or pendant.

She’d heard of crows bestowing gifts to humans they favored, or humans who helped or fed them. But why her? Hadn’t she been telling them off and shooing them away since the day she noticed them? Suddenly, it didn’t feel so crazy to think they’d been following her. She’d have to be more kind to them. It wasn’t their fault she and nature weren’t getting along lately.

She tapped the window again. “Thank you for your generosity, but you’re bothering my dog. Please come back some other time. Shoo!”

They retreated to the tree in her yard, where there were dozens of the little buggers speckling the orange hues of the leaves.