Page 17 of Monsters and Mocha

A black bird hopped through the small opening before landing on the back of the chair, bobbing its head as it spoke, “Sorry I’m late. What do you think you’re doing?”

Darby sank back into the chair, and the bird fluttered down to her knees. She stroked its head. “I’m sorry, Raven. But I wasn’t entirely sure you could be trusted while I was at work.”

“Good Raven.”

“Ha. You’re good when you feel like it. I wasn’t going to risk you deciding you needed to steal one of the Captain’s very shiny screws.”

“It’s mine.”

“It’s not. But here, I found something for you today.” Darby reached into the pocket of her coat and held out her palm, revealing a sparkling piece of blue glass. The bird immediately began pecking at it with its beak, turning it this way and that.

Fitz had the uncomfortable feeling that he was intruding on a private conversation between friends. He cleared his throat. “Does the raven come here often?”

Darby looked up from her feathered companion. “He’s a crow.”

“But…you called him a raven.”

“I called him Raven. That’s his name.”

“You have a crow named Raven?”

“Yes.” She said the word like a question, tilting her head and lifting an eyebrow quizzically.

“Isn’t that rather redundant?”

“No. It would be redundant if he were a crow named Crow.” A smile played at the corners of her mouth, and Fitz suddenly found he wanted to see what it would look like if she let it loose.

“I see.” He didn’t. “And he comes inside? I mean, is he tame?”

“About as tame as a crow can be. It depends on his mood—some days he’s as happy as a lark and on others he’s madder than a wet hen.” Darby pressed her lips together as if holding in a laugh, and her eyes twinkled with mischief.

The conversation was growing absurd, but since it was far preferable to addressing the glinting abomination permanently attached to his body, he leaned into it.

“So he just comes and goes as he pleases?”

She ran one finger along the center of Raven’s head, pushing down feathers that appeared much softer than he would have guessed the brash birds possessed. “He generally pleases to come more than go, but he usually takes a morning and evening flight to find food and treasure. Raven loves collecting shiny things.” She tapped the bird’s beak, changing her voice to a higher pitch as she addressed him. “I think it’s why he decided we should be friends in the first place. You were just jealous of all my screws and bolts, weren’t you?”

The bird ducked away from her hand. “Good Raven. It’s mine.”

His arm itched, and Fitz absentmindedly reached over to scratch it, then recoiled when his fingers touched cold metal instead of flesh. He cleared his throat to try to mask his reaction. “I didn’t know crows could talk. Can he actually understand you?”

Darby narrowed her eyes at him for a long moment. “It’s normal, you know—the phantom sensations. Your mind is still adjusting.”

Her well-meant reassurance brought the reality of his situation crashing back, and along with it, an uncharacteristic sarcasm. “Yes, I’m sure you know all about it.”

She simply raised an eyebrow at his attitude. “I am a doctor. I’ve studied and performed amputations before.”

Fitz held up his new arm, turning it this way and that. He still wasn’t sure exactly how it was responding to his mind in almost the same way that his own flesh and blood would, but the ease with which he was able to control the metal gears was nearly as unnerving as seeing it there in the first place. “This isn’t an amputation.”

“True. The powder ball took care of that on its own. You came to me pre-amputated.”

“Which is how you should have left me.”

Darby nudged Raven from her lap and leaned forward onto her knees. Worry lines creased the area between her brows. “You can’t be serious.”

“And why not?” He tried to cross his arms, but gave up after trying to bend and twist the metal proved to be more difficult to master than merely lifting it. He huffed out an exasperated breath. “Surely you could have worked your magic and healed me without turning me into…this.”

“Into what? You’re still a man.”