Page 87 of Wingless Crow: Part 1

“These are pretty.” I leaned over to inhale the delicate scent of the blossoms.

He watched me. “You like flowers?”

“Who doesn’t?” I smiled as the delicate petals tickled my nose.

Ash-gray vines arched over the patio. A soft caw came from the one directly over our heads.

Voron glanced up, his features relaxing into a warm expression.

“Good morning to you, too, old friend,” he said to a large black bird sitting in the vines.

“Is that…” I hesitated, afraid to say the name of Voron’s last pet so as not to poke a fresh wound since he’d just lost Magnus.

Voron had acted cool and unaffected when King Tiane shot Magnus. That didn’t mean he wasn’t hurting from the loss of his long-time companion.

To my utter surprise, Voron smiled at me. A real, bright smile that lasted at least a second or two and nearly made my knees give in, almost sending me to the floor.

“Yes, it is Magnus. Come here,” he beckoned the bird. “Come on over here, you rascal. You know it’s breakfast time.”

From a carved marble stand nearby, he took a glass jar filled with a mix of seeds, nuts, and dried berries. The bird cawed again, ruffling its feathers in anticipation of the meal.

“Speaking of breakfast,” Voron said. “I need to get some food, too. I haven’t eaten since forever, and I’m starving. Would you mind feeding him?” He handed the jar to me.

“Me? Will he eat from me?”

“He will, as long as I’ll allow it.” He flicked his wrist, gesturing from the bird to me, then walked back inside to order a breakfast through Alcon.

Flapping his big black wings, Magnus flew from the vine to the marble stand in front of me. He then tilted his head, looking at me expectantly with his beady eyes.

“Is that really you, Magnus?” I opened the jar and took a handful of the feed out, then offered it to the bird.

While he ate, carefully selecting seeds and berries from my hand, I studied him closely. I doubted I could tell one crow from another. I’d even mistaken him for a raven before. This one appeared just as large as Voron’s previous bird. He also had the same silver rings circling his ankles.

But Magnus had been killed. A bolt as thick as my thumb had gone through his chest. I’d seen it with my own eyes.

“How did you survive, buddy?” I marveled.

“He didn’t.” Voron walked out to the patio again. “He most definitely died.”

“Did you…replace him?”

He chuckled.

“Oh, no. Magnus is very much irreplaceable.” He stroked under the bird’s beak, speaking affectionately, “Aren’t you, Magnus?” The bird glanced at his master, then rubbed the side of its beak against his finger.

“So,” I blinked at them both, confused. “If he died, and this is him…”

“I brought him back from the dead,” Voron replied matter-of-factly.

I leaned closer, squinting at the bird. Some feathers on his chest were missing, leaving a dent in his glossy coverage right where the king’s bolt had struck.

“You can bring people back from the dead?” At this point, I wasn’t even that surprised. Voron was a mysterious man with many magical abilities.

“Not people, just animals. And notmepersonally,” he admitted. “But I have a friend who can do it. For a price.”

“Is that why you were gone from Elaros? You took Magnus to your friend?”

The bird finished eating, and Voron tenderly stroked the feathers on his head with his finger.

---