Page 20 - Solstice Art & Literary Magazine 2020

20
CROW BOY
ANALISE BUDZIAK
The peace and quiet of the village at night was shattered by furious shouting, and the birds of the surrounding forest flew away in panic. The moon was shrouded by clouds, but the settlement was well lit by an abundance of torches, which were carried through the streets by
the villagers. They cast light on the fearful faces of those who bore them, and on the running boy and the crow flying alongside him. They were like a shadow, with black feathers and cloak.
The boy heard the words that chased them through the crow’s ears as well as his own. Demon, they said. Crow boy. Omen. Evil, liar, monster. The torches made him want to flee. The words made him want to plant his feet in the ground, turn back, and show them exactly how monstrous he could be.
But I’m not a monster, he repeated in his mind as he ran. His bare feet slapped against the cold, hard, uneven stone bricks, his cloak streaming out behind him like a cape.
The crow had gotten ahead, and it looped back. Feet are so slow and clumsy, she chided him as they drew even. Just merge, it’ll be better for both of us.
It would be better for me if you didn’t show up at all, he shot back. They’re doing this because of you. They’re afraid of you. He skidded around a corner, but there were more villagers waiting with torches, casting flicker-
ing light on their faces. He knew them well, but now
they seemed to be strangers in their anger. Everything looked cruel in torchlight.
The boy pivoted and ran the opposite way, but not before a dozen stones came hurtling out of the shadows. Most fell short, but one struck the crow on her wing. With a harsh caw, she tumbled through the air. The boy cried out and clutched his arm to his chest, barely coming to his senses quick enough to catch the falling bird. He ran faster, heart pounding in his ears. The nearest exit had been blocked, and merging would be pointless now, but his path would take him by the healing house. If it wasn’t blocked—and it might be—it was his only chance.
He swerved between houses, abandoning the paved roads. It would be faster that way, and speed was everything. The shouting grew distant, although there was a chance that the mob had simply put a lid on their anger in favor of the element of surprise.
When he got to the healing house, he was in luck— ironically enough. Nobody was guarding it. He soon discovered why; warding sigils had been carved into the doorway. He entered, ignoring them. By our feathers, we’re not a demon.
No. We’re just a crow.
He ignored her as well, running to the cabinets. All his potions were stored there. There was no time to bring them
with him. His fingers swept the vials in front off the shelf, and they shattered on the floor. The shouting grew nearer. There were two glass vials in the back—but he had forgot- ten which was which! He leaned in to read the labels.
The door burst open. “There he is!”
No time. He grabbed the vial on the left, smashed it open on the bottom of the cabinet, and drank it.
There was no perceptible change in the boy, and his pur- suers grinned in satisfaction, thinking there was no way for him to escape now. Then the boy moved. He sprinted past them faster than they could blink and was deep in the forest before they realized what had happened.
When the potion wore off, the boy leaned against a tree, breathing hard. He set the crow gently on the snow-dust- ed ground and slowly sat down beside her, and then set to picking the glass shards out of his feet. That was too close.
Why don’t you want to merge? We might’ve gotten away!
“We did get away, Phoenix be thanked,” the boy snapped, pulling out a piece of glass more quickly than he had meant to. He hissed in pain. Humans had plenty of strange habits, but shoes seemed like something to look into.
Barely. Isn’t it easier to speak in my mind?
“Not when I want nothing to do with you.” It was blunt, he
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