The Dark Between Dreams | ✔️

Chapter 21 🔻 Song and Dance

Our feathered guide flew up and took roost on the railing next to Crow. The three of us crept inside the quarters. Crow immediately bristled and flashed his teeth at our intrusion. He growled like a cornered animal. And if there was one thing I learned about animals as a vet tech, they only grew more dangerous when cornered and frightened. "Vale. Webb. Let me talk to him. Alone."

Vale shook her head, fixing Crow with the iciest of glares.

"I got this," I insisted. "He's unarmed and still tied-up. Anchored ghost to anchored ghost. I'll be fine."

Though she looked to have some choice words to say on the matter lingering on her tongue, Vale kept them to herself and relented. She shooed an objecting Webb outside, saying, "If he does anything, just yell."

Sure enough, Crow relaxed as soon as they left. I propped my spear against the doorway and held empty hands up to the other hollow.

"Look," I told him. Then I winced at myself. Perhaps that was the wrong word to use. "No weapon. See?" Crap. Did it again. "I just want to talk."

Crow said nothing in response. Perhaps he wasn't feeling particularly chatty after our little spat.

I continued to press. "I heard you singing."

"You are mistaken. Crows do not sing."

"Humming. Whatever. It sounded like a pretty song." Ugh. Small talk was not my forte.

"Someone taught it to me. Cannot remember who. Cannot even remember the words." Crow continued to keep his hands cupped together. And he hummed again. Quieter this time.

It was a sad little song, completely different from the tune the scavengers belted in The End of the Line. His purring voice joined the moaning wind and the creaking of the ship in an entrancing, somber concert.

I hated to break the moment.

"I'm like you, Crow," I blurted. "I'm an anchored ghost."

Crow stopped humming. "Anchored," he repeated, deliberately slow, as if tasting the word. "An...chored...Yes, I suppose I was anchored, was I not? That is what they all said."

There was a flash of white behind his bangs as his eyes darted about. I couldn't see any Light in his eyes, but then again, he didn't exactly have pupils.

"I...I heard it was because you were anchored, that you went...you know..."

I saw Webb's spinning finger gesture in my head.

"That's why you tried to murder Blackburne...your friend."

Crow had nothing to say to that. But at least there was no growling or teeth-baring. So far, so good. One step forward...

I moved to settle onto the lower bunk opposite him, though there was hardly any room to sit amongst the crows and the clutter of blankets and twigs and other random materials on all the beds. "But is it true that you can survive in the Light without—?"

"Do not sit there!"

I jumped back from the bed. "Whoa! Sorry!" Aaand two steps back.

"This fledgling talks too much," Crow said to whatever he held. "You should tell her to leave."

A little pink beak peeked out from behind his fingers. A hatchling crow gaped up at him. "Weh!" it cried. "Weh! Weh! Weh!"

I clapped my hands over my mouth. "Oh my gosh, that's a baby crow!"

The man shushed me. "You are scaring him."

"Sorry!"

From all the bunks, other baby crows; hatchlings, nestlings, and fledglings alike, began crying for attention. Crow had made nests for them all out of materials found in the desert. This room was a nursery.