Queen of the Crows

by Harmony Wagner

  Whenever Lustre felt uneasy, he was comforted by visiting his secret stash. He flew there now.

  He kept his treasures in the broken top of a high street lamp, surrounded by a branchy oak tree in the middle of town. House keys, earrings, screws, bottle caps, coins, a toy car. He was quite sure his collection of shiny things was the finest of all the crows’. Except of course the queen’s.

  His heart leapt! The queen’s treasure was unguarded with all the crows away on the search mission. Dare he push his luck so far? He couldn’t help but fly back that way, while he contemplated his strategy.

  Essentially, he had to play two games simultaneously. Hide behind the princess’s weaknesses and control her, while stirring up fear in the group to make them want to give him power. But the tricky part, and this was what was troubling him, was making sure that nothing he did would put him in bad favour if the queen did return suddenly.

  He arrived at the circular stand of birch trees in the middle of the park woods where the queen’s treasures were kept. No crows were about, but a flock of gulls flew over.

  The queen couldn’t possibly have gull spies, could she?

  Lustre could hardly believe that she would. Gulls were lower than even the lowest crow.

  She wouldn’t trust them as far as one flap, would she?

  Now he was filled with doubt. The girl’s and Cracks’s statements had thrown him. He did not like this feeling. He was accustomed to using fear, not being consumed by it.

  Still, generations of crow tribute lay all around him unguarded.

  He was aware of the things various crows had brought to this queen during her tenure, but imagine the treasures that might be in those hollows, collected by the generations of crows that came before!

  She might not even know.

  It would stand to reason. This queen was certainly gracious when gifts were brought to her, but Lustre knew her heart didn’t burn the way his did when she looked upon the precious glint. He remembered the look she gave him last spring when his heart went wild with desire after Popcan had brought her that beautiful butter knife. It was as if she could feel the emanations from the burn he felt inside.

  “Remember, Lustre, it’s just a thing. True shine comes from within,” she had said with a look of reproach.

  Plus, she spent ever so much time dealing with the crows and their problems, she probably hadn’t even bothered to do a thorough inventory of the entire cache of shiny things.

  Now desire burned through his fear and made him bold.

  This opportunity will never come again.

  With the gulls long passed and no crow on the horizon, Lustre sprung into action. He quickly examined the hollows, from birch to birch. Anytime he saw any modern house keys he passed on. At last he found a hollow with keys of a different shape altogether. The nails were built differently as well. Even the jewelry seemed heavier and of better construction.

  He grasped onto the lip of the hollow with one foot and flapped his wings as quietly as he could to stay up. Quickly, he darted his eyes side to side, seeing no bird. He thrust his claw into the hollow and grabbed what he could. As he took flight, he transferred the haul into both claws. This shiny was heavier than he expected. As he awkwardly tried to adjust the weight, he dropped a key. He watched it fall into a deep pile of leaf litter with a thud.

  Arr! Arr! Arr! sounded a group of gulls fighting over some food on the road ahead.

  Lustre squeezed his claws tighter and pulled them in tight to his body to hide the shiny. He looked back, but couldn’t see the key.

  No matter, I’ll search for it later.

  He leaned into the wind to shield his feet from the sights of the gulls below. Lustre flew as fast as he could to his street lamp across town to examine his booty.

  Elsa crossed through the large field. Gulls peppered the park, but there wasn’t a crow in sight, which was odd. With the thousands of crows that roosted in the park, she couldn’t think of a time when she’d walked through the city and not seen a crow or heard a caw. But there was an odd silence today.

  They must be searching the countryside.

  Arr! Arr! Arr! A gaggle of gulls passed over.

  It wasn’t really a silence, Elsa realized. It was the fact that the crow music was missing from the symphony of city sounds.

  Elsa watched some other gulls pester each other as she crossed the road to the tennis courts. She thought about how they were just as much a part of the park as the crows were, yet she hadn’t observed them closely. They hadn’t captivated her in the same way as the crows, so she had ignored them.

  I wonder if they have kings and queens?

  Elsa decided to start paying more attention to the ways of the gulls. She also decided to start paying more attention to what she paid attention to.

  The concept of taking in a High Crow version of the world tantalized her mind.

  As she entered the wood, she practiced expanding her perception. Instead of just looking at the way in front of her, she softened her vision to take in the broadest vantage she could, including all her peripheral vision. She listened. She felt the wind on her skin. She smelled the mud, pine, and dry leaves mixing together.

  There was so much going on.

  Even with her gaze looking forward, she could still see a big brown dog bounding through the woods far to her right. Its owner followed slowly, walking with a slight limp of his right leg. In the distance to her left, a mother pushed a baby carriage, crunching leaves along a path. Behind Elsa, tennis balls bounced and a father coached his boy on his swing.

  All around, the city was rich with layers of sounds, ranging from the hum of a cruise ship, loud trucks rattling down the promenade, and children playing on the playground beyond the wood to a distant pinging of city construction downtown.

  Thoonk. Elsa’s foot knocked something under the leaves along the path.

  She stopped and rooted through the leaves to find what it was. Brushing the leaves aside, she found a small, old-fashioned key.

  She examined it more closely. It had been made by hand in a forge. It looked to be a hundred years old.

  Elsa picked it up and put it in her pocket. How interesting that practicing High Crow perception had yielded treasure right below her feet. This new way of seeing the world intrigued her even more. She continued practicing all the way home.

  Lustre checked over his shoulder as he landed on his streetlight. The oak tree that surrounded the lamp clung to some of its leaves over winter, but still he felt exposed. He loosened his grip and let his treasures fall into the cracked-open casing of the light.

  At first he was disappointed. The things were so old, they had been tarnished by time and weren’t even shiny anymore. A greenish coin. A blackened locket, with faint hand-drawn portraits of a woman and a boy. But then he saw it: a deep gold ring with a sparkling red stone. It was the most beautiful shiny he had ever seen.

  He tenderly inserted one of his toes into the ring and rubbed at it with the back of his wing. It became shinier. He worked fastidiously for several minutes, periodically lifting it up to admire how the light bounced off the facets of the stone. He had been polishing for a while when he realized he was hearing caws returning from the distance.

  The key!

  He dropped the ring into the top of the lamp and shuffled the other treasures over it. He pushed off hard and raced to the park.

  When he arrived he could hear the group consolidating and advancing from all directions. Ignoring the gulls nearby he swooped down onto the path where the key had fallen. Frantically he hopped and pecked through the curled dry brown leaves. Nothing.

  He flew up and circled over hoping to see a glint, but he remembered the key had been darkened by time. That worked to his advantage. It wouldn’t interest a crow if they saw it.

  Perhaps a human found it.

  The crow silhouettes
drew nearer now and he could hear their calls. “To the roost.” “To the roost!” “Gather!” “Darkness is coming!”

  He landed once more and scratched through the leaves until the crows’ calls were almost at the edges of the park. Giving up, he lifted majestically up into their view and flew higher than them all. He circled a few times and chose the stand of trees nearest the water, next to the playground. It was his least favourite place to sleep due to the sea wind that came up the river, but it was far from the stand of birch trees and he liked it for that reason tonight.

  Plus, it will make them think about the gulls.

  He took the highest tree in the stand and watched as the group began to amass for their roost in the branches below him.

  Elsa reached under her bed for her treasure box.

  She had learned the hard way that if she really wanted to keep something in this house, it had to be well-hidden. She had seen her birthday camera disappear. The gold hoop earrings from when she got her ears pierced, the expensive sneakers that “Gran” had given her last Christmas. (She knew they were really bought by Claire, to make sure there was more than just her gift at Christmas.) And, of course, all the money she’d saved from her lemonade stands.

  At the height of the upswings, just before her mother was about to crash, she’d usually buy a bunch of stuff that they couldn’t afford and Elsa would get presents. But time and time again, after the crash had passed, Elsa would come home to find those belongings had vaporized, along with her mother.

  Now anything she really wanted to keep was in a little box she kept taped under her bed. Funnily enough, the things she treasured probably wouldn’t have had any value to Dana anyway. Those items had long been sold. Nevertheless, Elsa kept the things that mattered to her hidden, just in case.

  She had a silk Japanese doll her mother had bought for her when she was six. The pocketknife Claire had given her for her eleventh birthday. A ribbon she’d won at the science fair. Beach glass and a moonsnail shell from the time Dana had taken her to the beach. A picture of Dana smiling a pure, true smile, holding Elsa as a newborn. And a perfect crow feather she had found in the park.

  She added the key to the collection.

  She looked down at the beautiful necklace against her chest. She decided to keep it on for now.

  Elsa felt relieved when she heard the crows returning. She went to her mother’s bedroom for the best view of their air highway to the park. She watched them pass by in the hundreds, cawing loudly, beckoning each other home.

  Claire probably wouldn’t be back until long after dark. Bathed in the orange glow of the sun, Elsa felt her mother’s absence.

  She peered into Dana’s closet. She took out a frilly leopard-print tank top and a shiny black miniskirt and put them on. She stepped into a pair of gold lamé high heels that were still too big and looked at herself in the mirror.

  With the dimming light and the necklace, Elsa looked much older. She wobbled in the shoes over to the dresser and pulled out a pair of socks and a bra. She figured out how to get it on and stuffed the cups with the socks.

  She re-examined the outfit in the mirror, turning from side to side, examining her future profile.

  What is my future?

  Elsa pushed down that thought quickly. Anytime her mind wandered to what was going to happen, she found herself getting knotted up inside.

  She kicked the shoes off and put on her own clothes again. She shoved all Dana’s stuff back where it came from.

  But no matter how she tried to avoid the thought of her future, her mind periodically flickered back to worrying about all the unknowns that lay ahead.

  What’s happening during this “observation”? What if they deem Dana unfit to take care of me? What if Claire doesn’t want to keep me? What will happen then?

  It was all too much to bear.

  She breathed in the ever-increasing volume of the crow caws. The vibration of their group call to roost calmed her. She needed to get outside.

  She went down to the kitchen and stepped out the back door. She held the necklace over her heart. Breathing in the crisp air and listening to the sounds from the park settled her soul. She stepped back in to think about dinner.

  Arr! Arr! Arr! A group of gulls laughed amongst themselves as they huddled into the rocks along the shore beside the playground.

  Ruffle sank into her branch, listening to them wistfully. “Why has he put us so close to the gulls? I can’t stand to hear them laughing,” she muttered.

  Popcan cuddled up next to her.

  “We have to show them we are strong,” said Billow from another branch.

  “Why do we put up with them at all?” asked Wrapper. “We have numbers. We could push them out of the park if we really wanted to.”

  “Nobody wants war,” said Popcan. “Once it starts, it never ends.”

  “They may be bigger than us,” said Billow, “but we are smarter and can work together. We can’t let them think they can take one of ours and get away with it.”

  “How do we know we are smarter?” asked Whirly. “We only know them from a distance.”

  “Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?” chimed Wrapper. “I detest their pale feathers, ugly feet, and ghastly songs. We should take them out, once and for all.”

  Boughbend could hear all this from the high tree. So could Lustre. The princess was already sleeping, but Breezy and Careen listened with interest.

  Boughbend stole a glance at Lustre. With the night setting in, he couldn’t be sure, but he thought he could perceive a subtle smile.

  All this talk troubled Boughbend greatly. He knew how hard the queen worked to maintain the uneasy peace between the gulls and crows.

  “We all come from an egg and need the wind to fly,” squawked Cracks from the lowest branch in the roost.

  “Of course he’d say that,” whispered Wrapper. “He’s no prettier than them.”

  “Can you believe he had the gall to land on the throne?” gossiped Billow.

  “Sacrilege!” harrumphed Wrapper.

  “Let’s all just get some sleep,” said Ruffle wearily.

  Careen waited until most of the group was quiet. She relaxed the grip on the hidden treasure she held in her clutches. She knew it might be seen as inappropriate to have collected shiny while she should have been searching for the Queen. But she simply couldn’t pass up snatching this keychain when she’d seen it hanging on a nail in a tree.

  Best of all, no one had seen her, so she could keep this one for herself instead of feeling obligated to present it to the princess. She took flight to find her hollow.

  Over the seasons, she had done her best to find shiny as often as she could to present to the princess and occasionally even the queen. Careen wanted to move up in the ranks and keep favour in her good position. But once in a while, when the rare opportunity presented itself, she hoarded a little stash for herself in a secret hollow in a maple near the tennis courts. She had two coins, a pop tab, and now this fantastic little keychain.

  “What are you doing flying in the dark?” barked a gruff voice from behind her.

  Careen’s heart leapt. It was Lustre.

  He had hoped to paw for his lost key a bit while the others slept.

  She could certainly be a spy for the queen, he brooded.

  “Oh, it’s you!” she exclaimed nervously and slowed to settle on the nearest branch she could see.

  He followed, landing ominously close. He noticed her awkward, one-footed landing.

  “I hope you don’t think me terrible.” She leaned in a little closer to him, looking up at him longingly.

  Now is my chance, she thought as her heart raced. Don’t chicken out.

  She had always admired Lustre’s big wings and shiny feathers, but, even more, his powerful position. She had often fantasized about how mating with him would launch her t
o the best position she could possibly attain. Unless, of course, the queen named her the next queen—but she couldn’t foresee that happening.

  He never seemed to pay her much attention, though. In fact, over the seasons he had shown no interest in mating with anyone as far as she could see.

  “I was…” She lingered uncomfortably, feeling all fluttery inside. “I was…well, to tell you the truth…I was going to hide this.”

  Careen held the little keychain up to the light from the tennis courts.

  “I found it while on the search and I know I should have presented it to the princess, but I really wanted to give it to you.” She leaned even closer, extending her foot coyly towards him. “To say thank you for being such a strong leader in our time of need.”

  She gazed at him as he held the silver loop and pendant up to the light. It flashed and sparkled deliciously as it dangled. She looked away quickly as he looked back at her.

  Hmm, he thought. Does she truly admire me? If she longs for advancement and is willing to break the rules to do it, perhaps she could be useful as my spy.

  “You are very thoughtful, Careen,” he said softly. He watched her feathers ruffle up. “Where were you going to put it?”

  “Oh.” She bowed her head with embarrassment. “I have a little hollow with some other trinkets, just over there.”

  Lustre handed her back the keychain. “Keep it for me there, with your other things. It will be our little secret,” he said, doing his best to sound intrigued.

  She giggled girlishly and flew to her hollow and placed it inside. He watched her, taking note of its location, possibly to be raided later.

  She returned to him swiftly.

  “I have always admired the lean of your wing, Careen. You fly very gracefully.”

  “Thank you,” she said bashfully.

  “Have you considered mating in the spring?” he asked directly.

  She ruffled, almost losing her perch. She swallowed, trying to regain her composure. Lustre would want a refined mate if he took one.