Black Birds

by J. P. Rice

  “So what happened?” I swept the twigs and brush away from my sleeping area. The Morrigan snored softly. I looked at her and Titania and wondered how they could get to sleep so fast.

  Justinian raised his head to the sky, but the tree branches above covered up the moon and stars. “My mother made an impassioned speech in my defense. Basically insisted that if they sent me away, she would chase after me, every waking hour of every day until she found me.”

  “You must really love her.”

  He said, “Of course. I spend little time with the men as I have hardly anything in common with them.”

  “What do you do?” I covered myself with the blanket.

  Justinian threw another piece of wood on the fire. “I learn. Which is frowned upon by the men of the pack. They’re all into sports and quote, unquote, manly things.” He made the finger symbols to reinforce his point. Shaking his head, he asked, “What the hell is a touchdown? Is that a moon landing reference?”

  “No.” I grinned. “A touchdown is when a football player crosses the goal line with the ball. They could also catch the ball in the endzone. And I suppose they could recover a fumble too.”

  Justinian turned to me with confusion in his eyes. “What in the name of the Gods are you blathering about?”

  So much for him wanting to learn. “Nothing. Forget it. Why is learning frowned upon?” I asked.

  Justinian blew on the coals of the fire to ignite the new piece of wood. The damp log tried to resist, but the intensity of the glowing coals proved too much, and soon, blue flames climbed up the wood. “Because Octavius needs to keep control of the family. And the best way he sees fit is to keep everyone stupid so they won’t question the backward ways of living he preaches. None of it makes sense to me.”

  “What specifically are you referring to?” I wanted to know as I lay back on the ground in Sleepy Willow.

  He paused for a moment and his eyes shifted around as if he didn’t know where to start. “The mating for one. Incest is fucking gross. Octavius wonders where all these birth defects come from. Like it’s some big mystery. His head is so twisted, he nearly threw me to the wild because of my eye color. I don’t say this lightly, but the pack would be better off with Caesar at the helm.”

  Very interesting. “Can’t argue with you there. I get along with Caesar much better than Octavius.”

  “Everyone does,” he said and lay on his side with his head propped up on his hand. “I wouldn’t say we’re hoping Octavius meets his demise, but it’s time for a change. I’m pretty much chained to the house. Never get to do what I want.”

  “What do you want to do?” I asked the obvious question.

  He smirked shyly and turned away, his neck reflecting the dancing flames of the fire. “It’s a silly dream”

  “Every dream is silly. Spill the beans,” I encouraged him.

  Justinian took a few deep breaths, contemplating whether to tell me. “I’d like to be an alto singer. I have a zest for performance. To entertain people. The artists are the ones who keep this world spinning.”

  “How so?”

  He stared into my eyes and spoke passionately, “Because when people are driven to their wit’s end by the doldrums of real life, they look for an escape. Sure, some choose drugs and drinking, but most people look for a release in the form of reading, watching a movie or a show or through music. If not for the artists, life would be rather dull.”

  He made a good point. I said, “Never thought about it like that.”

  Justinian went on, “I have a friend who is an author. He barely makes enough to survive. He hasn’t bought anything for himself in over two years. His fans will complain when he raises his prices, so he keeps them so low that he lives just above the poverty line.”

  I opined, “That’s not cool.”

  “Not cool at all,” he agreed. “Most of his fans who buy his books make much more money than he does. But when they need an escape, there he is, entertaining them like a clown. And a broke clown with messed up makeup at that. It always surprised me that some artists who create original content can be paid so poorly, yet two-bit actors spouting the same lines over and over make all the cash.”

  I said, “I guess you don’t get to practice your singing very much.”

  Justinian chuckled sorrowfully. “You would be correct. Octavius would kill me on the spot if he heard me. That’s why I want to leave the house, but he won’t allow it.”

  “Where do you want to go?” I asked.

  Barely able to contain his excitement, he sat up again. “New York City. The culture. The museums. The people. Perhaps start working Off-Broadway, and then hopefully if I am good enough, make it into a show on Broadway. But if I try to leave, Octavius will have me hunted down and killed.”

  “He does like that move,” I said and thought this could be the perfect opportunity to get some information out of Justinian. “I need to ask you a few questions about him. I know you guys don’t shift off the lunar cycle, but he’s tried to convince me that you only shift when you are scared and feeling cornered. As a defense mechanism. I’m calling BS.”

  He smirked. “We shift easiest at night when the moon is full, but we don’t rely on it. And Octavius is telling the truth. But it’s only half the truth. We can also shift when we are angry,” he revealed.

  I yelled, “I fookin’ knew it.” I lowered my voice out of respect to my snoozing sisters. “That liar.”

  “I think his madness is driven by the lies. There are so many of them, they are hard to keep track of. He forgets whether he has lied about something and changes his stories around to suit his current agenda. He’s very transactional,” he explained.

  “So you guys don’t use magic tattoos on your wrists,” I wondered aloud.

  “No, none of that.” Justinian tossed more wood on the fire.

  The fire cracked, and I slid back another foot to avoid any flying coals. “So you want to go to New York to get away from Octavius. I can dig that.”

  As my head hit the pillow, he said, “That isn’t the real reason I want to get out of there.”

  This got more interesting by the sentence. “What then?”

  A disgusted look came over his face like he had smelled something gross. “Next year. I turn twenty-one. Means I start breeding. And no matter how much the pack tries to normalize it, it is not normal to mate with your sister. It’s downright gross.”

  “You won’t find an argument from me. Many dynasties throughout time have thought that keeping it in the family created a super bloodline. Science has proven that the complications get worse as time goes on.”

  “Exactly. I’m not trying to make a mutant wolf that gets thrown to the wild. I was hoping with my eye color that they wouldn’t want me to breed. But I’m not having sex with one of my sisters. Octavius will have to kill me on the spot if he tries to force me into that.” Justinian went back to poking the fire, which came across as a nervous habit.

  I thought about something and said, “You know, I’ve never seen a female member of your pack before.”

  Justinian smirked again, and for the first time, he looked cute. His face had gone from overwhelmingly punchable to totally kissable. Not for me. But perhaps we could find him a nice lady who he wasn’t related to.

  He said, “Because Octavius keeps the women hidden away. They are there for breeding, feeding, clothing and cleaning. Paternal driven atmosphere. The men don’t let the women take part in the dangerous aspects of the family business.”

  “Can they shift too?” I asked, wishing I had the ability to conjure a softer pillow as I wrestled with it.

  He tossed his head from side to side in indecision as he stared into the fire. “They can, but it’s much harder for them. I’m not sure why. Perhaps they don’t carry the anger that most of the men do.”

  “What’s it like to shift?” I wanted to know.

  “I don’t know,” he said defensively. He turned to me and made eye contact. “What did it feel like w
hen you ripped out Cicero’s heart and held it above your head like a trophy?”

  Oh, damn. This had taken a turn I’d hoped to avoid. “Sounds like you had that one loaded up. I don’t even remember that. And I wish I hadn’t done it.”

  Justinian turned back to the fire and slammed another log on top, the tiny red sparks jumping high in the dark air. “Still counts. He’s dead and gone, yet your hands are clean of blood. You’ve washed it all away. He was the only male member of the pack I could talk to about my secrets. Now, I have nobody.”

  “I’m sorry about that,” I said solemnly. I really was sorry.

  “It feels like someone is ripping your body apart. The shifting,” he said. He thought for a moment and continued, “Like a demon has entered your insides and bounces around causing your organs to feel like they are shutting down. And then when you think you are about to die, that...that...that strike of lightning hits you. All the pain recedes, and like that.” He snapped his fingers. “You are a killing machine. Barely responsible for your own actions.”

  Sounded familiar. “I can relate to that.”

  “I know. I witnessed your malice first hand,” he reminded me. “That blank look in your eyes told the whole story. When you were being dragged away to the pen, I could see that you had no clue what had happened. Still no excuse, but I could tell those actions weren’t your own.”

  I tried to relate to him. “Most people consider me a danger to society, so I’ve dealt with the same stigmas as a werewolf. They think the world would be a better place without old Junipher. Hell, you probably do to. As the years fly by, it gets harder and harder to defend myself. I’m a ticking time bomb. I’m trying to control it.”

  “But then you get the urges,” he said wide eyed and nodding.

  “Exactly.”

  “And you have no idea where they are coming from or how to control them?” Justinian asked rhetorically.

  I said, “I suppose we may be a lot more similar than we are different. And all it took was a five-minute chat. When we return, if you want to start your life in New York, I’ll make sure you get there safely. I can’t guarantee anything after that, though.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to live constantly looking over my shoulder. With my luck, I’ll be in a museum looking at a priceless painting, and boom. A silver bullet in the back of the head. The end of Justinian,” he stated dramatically.

  I realized I wasn’t getting to sleep and sat up. “I understand that too. Well, when we get back, I’ll let you return to your pack, then.”

  “But I don’t want to go back to them either.” He stopped poking the fire, smiled goofily and stared off to the side. “I want to find a wife of my own. Start my own family. I don’t want to be known as Octavius’s forty-seventh son. I want to forge my own identity and starting my own pack would go a long way toward that.”

  “But I’ve seen Caesar out with other women who don’t belong to the pack.”

  “It’s like you’re married to the pack, but you can have girlfriends on the side. Sow your wild oats. I don’t want that shallow physical release any more than I want to have intercourse with my sibling. I want something deep and meaningful,” Justinian revealed.

  “We are more alike than I’d ever imagined. I had that deep and meaningful relationship you speak of.” I paused for a second and debated how much to tell him. Fook it.

  I made sure the Morrigan was still asleep, and continued, “I loved it more than anything. And now it’s gone. I willingly took dark blood into my body just for a chance to get that feeling back. I did cruel things I never would have dreamt of on the quest to find my husband and feel whole again.”

  “I know a bit of your story. Octavius says you should forget about him and find yourself a new man.”

  “Octavius can kiss my ripe ass,” I snapped. I tried to relax. “Sorry. Well, what do you think?”

  He smirked, and the firelight pooled in the whites of his eyes. “As you can tell, I’m a dreamer. Not to sound crass, but I wouldn’t give up unless I saw the dead body.”

  “Everyone thinks I’m crazy for not giving up,” I told him.

  “Oh, I didn’t say that you weren’t crazy.” He chuckled awkwardly. “I just said you shouldn’t give up. If that’s the life you want, fight for it and never give up. I don’t want to sound out of line, but it seems like you’ve given up if you are on this journey.”

  Had I given up? The process had ground me to a pulp over the years. Turned a loving person into a lunatic. I’d been to the peak of Mount Madness and beyond. For what? More heartache and sorrow? How much more could I take?

  I explained, “The problem is that I haven’t a clue as to where he could be. I’ve traveled the world several times over on the hunt for my man. A woman can only walk so far before her legs get tired. But if that call should come, I’ll take off instantly. Without question.”

  “I can respect that.”

  I said hesitantly, “I’m going to open up to you only if you promise not to say anything.”

  Justinian turned to me and we locked eyes. “I was under the assumption all this was going to be kept under wraps. Both sides.” He wagged his finger back and forth.

  “Agreed. Just wanted to make sure.”

  “Understood,” he said, still maintaining eye contact.

  I made sure the Morrigan was still sleeping. I whispered, “The hardest part is seeing a happy couple in love. Or seeing a family and realizing that I’ll never have that happiness. I had a simple dream. A husband and kids. No fame or fortune. Just a family to call my own. You have your pack. I’ve never had one of those.”

  “Wow,” he exclaimed, blinking rapidly.

  “What? It’s true.”

  Justinian shook his head, eyes wide. “No, not that. It’s just before this trip, you’d killed my best friend and kidnapped me. You were a monster in my eyes. But after talking to you for a little bit, you’re not a monster. You’re a wounded animal. Scarred from a life you never wanted. Trapped in a corner and ready to lash out. A lot like me.”

  I said, “I never wanted any of the magic that’s inside me now. I convinced myself I needed it to find my husband. Then it snowballed out of control. Before I realized it, I was in the middle of an avalanche. Helpless to fight against it, I went with the flow. It swept me away, turning me into something different during the downhill slide. By the time the avalanche had finally stopped and I dusted off all the snow, I stared at a person I didn’t even recognize.”

  “There is always a chance at redemption,” he stated in a deeper voice.

  I exhaled audibly though my nose, hoping his words would come true. “Yes. That’s the unfamiliar path I’ve been traveling on lately. Seems to be paved with bumps and bruises so far.”

  “I’m sure it will get smoother if you keep going. Doing the right thing always seems harder than taking the easy way out. And as I say that, I realize why they call it the easy way out. For me, the easy way would be to stay with the pack and accept all the bullshit they are spoon-feeding us. You may have inspired me to take another look at my future,” he said and winked.

  I would have to let him know to ditch the sleazy wink. Later, though. I joked, “Hell, if there was a werewolf in London, there could be one in New York City.”

  He smiled and nodded. “Nice Warren Zevon reference. Although I like ‘Lawyers, Guns and Money’ myself.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. “I fookin’ love you.”

  “Excuse me?” he asked, taken aback.

  “Sorry.” I waved my hands in front of my chest. “Didn’t mean that amorously. It’s just that I’ve been making awesome pop culture references that none of my other friends seem to understand. So it’s refreshing to talk to a like mind.”

  “I would have never thought we’d have anything in common. Seems crazy that I hated you up until about twenty minutes ago.”

  “If you give me some time, I’m sure you’ll come to hate me again,” I joked. “I’ve never be
en a huge fan of wolves either. Toxic masculinity on steroids and cocaine. But in this line of work, I deal with that all the time. I hardly ever get a chance to work with another woman, let alone two.”

  “I know we are tracking after a dagger that speaks, but what is the bigger picture I seem to be missing?” he asked, squinting in confusion. His proper pronunciation and avoidance of contractions reminded me of Owen.

  I told him the story about the death cards and how Gareth fit into the puzzle. As I revealed the details to Justinian, it reminded me of how much work still lay ahead of us. First things first, we needed to find out if Dolphus’s tunnel led to the Goblin Queen’s castle.

  Chapter 14

  NEXT MORNING, AS WE crawled on our bellies in the tight tunnel to get to the Goblin Queen’s castle, my stomach churned. I hated being away from home and not knowing what was happening with the death cards. We hadn’t been gone long, but I knew supernaturals could unleash mayhem at any moment.

  I considered calling in my favor from Zeus for seven of his best men. I could send out a supernatural squad to hunt down the death card culprits. That plan would only be necessary if we failed on this mission, which I went back to focusing on. Nice to have in the back pocket though.

  We had been burrowing through the tunnel for about twenty minutes. Dolphus said it would take about a half hour, but I had the feeling his small body could travel faster through the enclosed path that I had to tuck my shoulders tight to my body to get through. We hadn’t thought about the body size difference until we’d entered the hole.

  Fire flamed underneath my fingertips, lighting up the path just enough for me to see a foot in front of me. Titania was in front with the Morrigan behind her. I could see the soles of the Morrigan’s boots less than a foot ahead. Justinian was crawling behind me, and every so often, he would bump my boot when I slowed down.

  I couldn’t blame him for being eager to get out of there. He wasn’t claustrophobic, but his wide shoulders probably barely fit through the hole. My biggest worry was about the prospective escape.