Chapter 34 – The Watcher in the Margins
"We need to move," Uzo said, handing the flask back. "The noise... the Resonance... it would have been heard for miles."
"Let them hear," Kaelen growled. "We just killed a Shadow. Let them fear the noise."
"It's not fear I'm worried about," Uzo said, standing up and wiping the mud from his coat. "It's curiosity."
As if on cue, the wind shifted.
The mist above the waterfall parted.
CAW.
A black shape spiraled down from the gray sky.
It wasn't a vulture. It was too sleek. Too intelligent.
It was the Crow. The same one that had been following them since the Capital.
It landed on the charred, empty spot where the Eclipse had exploded.
It pecked at the black sludge.
Then, it turned its head.
Its eyes weren't black beads.
They were human eyes. One blue, one green.
Uzo froze.
He recognized those eyes. He had seen them on a wanted poster in the Hall of Records, listed simply as The Watcher.
"Ronnie," Uzo whispered. "Don't shoot."
The Crow opened its beak.
It didn't caw.
It spoke. The voice was raspy, bored, but unmistakably human. It sounded like a man speaking through a long, copper tube.
"Impressive editing," the Crow croaked.
The Silent Legion scrambled for their weapons. Kaelen rose, ignoring his wound.
"A Skin-Walker?" Ronnie hissed.
"No," Uzo said, staring at the bird. "A Critic."
The Crow hopped forward. It looked directly at Uzo.
"The Eclipse was a messy draft," the bird said, picking at its feathers. "Sloppy narrative structure. I always told the King his character work was weak. Too much reliance on visual effects, not enough substance."
The bird tilted its head.
"You, however... you have a fascinating syntax. Vibration? Resonance? I haven't seen that style since the First Era."
"Who are you?" Uzo asked, gripping the Lexicon.
The bird puffed out its chest.
"I am the one who reads the footnotes. I am the one who wonders why a boy from the slums is rewriting the laws of physics."
The bird dropped a small object from its beak.
It landed in the snow with a soft clink.
It was a ring. A signet ring made of shifting, liquid silver.
"The House of Mystery is hosting a Gala in three days," the Crow said. "High Lord Vane requests your attendance. Do not worry about the dress code. Your trench coat is... adequately dramatic."
Uzo stared at the ring.
"And if I refuse?"
The Crow spread its wings.
"Then the King will send the next Draft. And I assure you... the next one won't have a shadow for you to pin."
CAW.
With a flap of wings, the bird launched itself into the air, disappearing into the mist of the Weeping Pass.
Uzo walked over and picked up the ring.
It was cold.
On the face of the ring was an insignia: A Question Mark consuming its own tail.
The House of Mystery.
Kaelen loomed over him.
"It is a trap, Uzo."
"Of course it's a trap," Uzo said, sliding the ring into his pocket.
He looked North, toward the distant lights of civilization that lay beyond the pass.
"But traps are just puzzles written by people who think they're smarter than you," Uzo said.
He looked at his friends.
"Pack up. We're going to the Gala."