Page 59 of Raven's Instinct
“The weather is lovely,” Bernard said. “Yes. I am frustrated. Bleep you.”
“Can I look at your leg?” Kendra was back at half-deaf volume.
Bernard rotated so that she could look at the injury and Kendra knelt to inspect it. “Nicely healed!” she said. “Does it give you any trouble?”
“No. No. No. I am hungry. No. Thank you.”
Kendra stood and patted his haunch. “My pleasure,” she said warmly. “Did Alan tell you my idea?”
“No. The weather is lovely. Maybe. Almost. No.”
“I was getting there,” Alan said. “I want to see if I can modify your design. They’ve got some of the lines lightened enough that I might be able to make a new pattern over it. Like a tattoo coverup. Kind of.”
“I think it’s worth a shot,” Kendra said. “I thought we should start with trying just to draw it on, first, nothing permanent like a tattoo.”
“Yes. Yes. Bleep you.” Bernard rotated so that his brand was in easy reach for Alan.
“I brought a couple of things to try,” Alan said. “A permanent marker, a wax pencil, a paint pen, and a wood burner.”
“Bleep you. Query. Query.” Bernard jerked his head towards the cameras.
“No, I haven’t gotten authorization to do this, if that’s what you’re wondering. The agency still has a pretty dim and disbelieving view of magic, and they’re still sure there is a medical answer. But I wasn’t toldnotto do it.” That was good enough for his raven, and for Alan.
He spread the tools out in his hand and Bernard nosed the wax pencil.
Drawing on textured live cowhide was a very different experience than carving and Alan was keenly aware of his audience. Bernard was watching him with one eye, his neck craned around, and Kendra hovered over him anxiously, occasionally making inane and distracting conversation in entirely too loud a voice.
The wax pencil proved incapable of providing a smooth line, so Alan switched to the marker. If itwasmarking, it was impossible to see, and he gave up on that almost at once as well. The paint pen, however, laid down a smooth, opaque line. Bull hip was not bare bone, and the size of the brand was almost twice the size of the tokens he made, but Alan could feel the tingle of instinct as the design came to life beneath his fingers. Kendra held her breath, and Bernard was stone still, not even his tail moving.
“Nearly there,” Alan said, but when he connected the final line, nothing happened.
Alan felt a surge of disappointment. He’d been so sure it was going to work when he felt the tingle of magic.
“Bleep you. Sorry. Thank you. No. Sadness detected.”
Kendra squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “What about the outside?”
“Outside?”
“You said it only works on your raven tokens. Maybe it needs the ravenshape, too.”
Was it that simple?
Bernard snorted. “Yes. Yes. Thank you.”
Alan uncapped the paint pen. This wasn’t a shape he had drawn before, he’d always applied the glyph to a carving. But it shouldn’t be any different. He went slowly, listening for his raven and the pull of instinct. An upward facing head. A spread wing. A fanned tail. The final wing. It was almost a star, but not quite, touching the edges of the symbol. Alan concentrated his mind onconnection.
Bernard’s spoken words were not bleeped out at all by the computer program when he shifted and Kendra turned away with a squeak.
Bernard was stark naked, the brand and the blue paint blazing on the side of his pale, bare buttocks. Alan hadn’t really thought about what part of the bull he was painting until he was in human form.
“We did it!” Kendra squealed, not looking around. “Bernard, you’re back at last!”
Bernard swore even more colorfully, looking at his hands in astonishment. Alan had subconsciously assumed he would be a Spaniard, as a Spanish bull, but he looked more like a Viking, with a short, dark blond beard streaked in gray. He was taller than Alan, and as broad-shouldered as Noah. He touched his face, his chest, and reached somewhat lower while Alan jerked his gaze away.
“Faen—”
“Bleep?” Alan suggested.
