Room for One More? (E 1.5, L 1.6)

"That kind of loyalty and trust says a great deal about both you and Mr. Litch. Is that kind of loyalty tied to the faith you share, or to your character you've fostered?"

I focus as the second trap crests the water and replicate what I saw Shrike do earlier - reaching out to grasp the slick and slimy rope and pulling it over to the walkway. There is a pair of lobsters in this one, but both are rather minuscule. Neither would contribute significantly to a meal now, but given some time to mature each could make for a fine meal. Then again who is to say we'd ever be able to drag these back in. "What do you do with crickets like these?"

"I see." I say to Shrike as she extends her knife my direction. I rotate the small lobsters around examining them closely and notice the slight curve of the tail on one of them letting me know it is a female; the other's tail is straight, male.

"Grow strong and have lots of delicious children." I say as I toss the curve-tailed crustacean back to the depths.

"She wasn't ready yet." I say as I slide the knife delicately out of her unsurprisingly strong grip. "And I don't mind going hungry for a while."

With a swift motion I slide the knife through the remaining crustacean's cephalon carapace, dispatching the small creature. I feel the tension in its extremities go slack as it passes. I remove the knife and use the thumb and forefinger of my hand holding the lobster to pinch the metallic blade. As I gently slide the knife through my grip, the slick residue of the lobster coalesces and drips from the tips of my fingers back to the murky waters. I flip the knife around in my dominant hand hand pass it back to Shrike.

"Do you ever miss who you were before your life here? Or do you know now that The Path is the right path for you?"

"Thank you," I grunt as I accept her aid in pulling myself up beside her. "And thank you for sharing that with me." I steady myself for a moment before loosening my grip on her, nodding for her to continue.

"I'm not sure The Path is for me, but I also don't know that I can return to what I was." If feels strange speaking about this aloud, "Or if I'd even want to," I mutter. "But I am going to need some answers. Some closure."

"That gives me an idea. I'm afraid that I may be too recognizable presently. Does anyone have a razor I could use to clean up? I think I'm ready to table Edmund for a while. Try something new."

"I would appreciate that Ms. Shrike." I fall in step behind her. Her natural pace is slightly quicker than mine, especially out here along the walkways, so I have to add in an extra little shuffle every few feet to keep close to her.

"Is there anything else I can help with? I'd be honored to help with meal preparations, unless that would be stepping out of place."

Shrike hustles up a set of stairs to the top level and passes by a bedroom to bring you into a small room with several bookcases. The spines of the books here are a motley array of leather, paper, and cardboard. The titles are just as chaotic - as if the Talons pick up books just because they exist and worry about the content on their pages later. Sitting at a table is Zephyr. She's quietly reading a leather book with thin but sturdy pages. She looks up as you enter, her soft brown eyes shifting from Shrike to you and back again.

"I'm proficient in the kitchen. It has been several years since I've burned or over-salted anything." I meant it to sound playful, but for some reason the way I worded that makes me feel oafish, and of course now I'm actually worried that I'll frell up a meal. I awkwardly clear my throat and try to push the conversation forward. "I hope not to screw anything up starting now."

"I'm stunned to see so many books! I must admit I have not spent as much time reading as I would like to have. Do either of you have any favorites?"

"Those sound fascinating. I'm not familiar with The Dictionary of Dreams, but it sounds very entertaining." I pace slowly along the bookcases, letting my eyes wander. "Grimms, however, I've spent a little time with recently. Paisley, Princy's little girl, wanted me to read some stories to her from time to time." I chuckle a little as the memory surfaces. "I managed to find a copy of these fairy tales thinking they would be perfect for her, but realized quickly that they may not have been quite appropriate for her, at least in my opinion. So I just held on to that book and turned pages, while telling her stories of love and magic."

As seems to be my new normal, as soon as I finish recalling those precious times, sorrow wells within me. It doesn't spill out, but it is undeniably present and deep, like a pit you don't go near for risk of falling in. "Not that I know much about love or magic."

I remove a book from the shelf that doesn't appear to have a title along the spine, the worn and cracking leather of the cover sits a little oddly. I don't bother to open it, the contents don't matter. For all I know, it could contain the most beautiful poems that could change how I see the world, or some smut that Jackdaw tucked away. I turn the book in my hands, examining the front and back covers and tracing my fingers over the stamped leather admiring the ridges and valleys. It's simple but beautiful - as so many things truly are. It must have been a splendid piece in its time. Whether it dulled and cracked to suit its environment, or because of its environment, who can know. Am I cracking too? The difference between the book, and me, is that I get to choose. I gently slide the book back onto the shelf.

"Miss Zephyr, I think I need to make a change in order to increase the likelihood that I succeed in the tasks ahead of me. Would you be willing to help me shave my beard and cut my hair? You can tell me how some of those fairy tales are actually supposed to end."

I am enjoying the playful flirtations of the Talons. Zephyr and I speak back and forth comfortably while she ushers me to the bathroom and sits me down. Perhaps it is remarkable since Litch seems so stoic all the time. Maybe this is just how they are with each other. Unlike Jackdaw's sexually-charged teasing in which I always assume I'm the punchline of a joke I don't understand, Zephyr's coquetry seems a more authentic interest.

It's enjoyable to watch her ritual while preparing the razor. Not to mention she is easy to look at in general. Then again, so was Shrike. I lean back in the chair and relax for the first time in what feels like forever.

"You don't have to worry about me flinching, I'm sure I'm in good hands." I barely finish the sentence before a chaotic, rapidly-approaching flapping startles me. As it nears, inhumanly fast, I over-rotate in order to not be caught off-guard. In doing so I tip in the chair in such a way that I collapse. The towel that was so delicately fastened around my neck manages to hold fast, but now loosely droops over my face, as I become a frantic sprawl of limbs. In my mind I'm trying to bravely warn this young woman of the incoming threat, but my relentless barrage of nonsensical syllables turns to silence as it becomes clear I am the only force of chaos in this room. As the raven's patiently rests on Zephyr's shoulder, I can almost see it laughing with its beady little eyes. "Anymore. You don't have to worry about me flinching anymore." I laugh as I rest my head on the hard floor, before shamefully picking myself up off the floor and righting the tipped chair.

Where the ravens go, Zephyr is sure to be. I follow the bird with the intent of asking Zeph where Shrike and Edmund are, but instead I hear the loud guffaws of my quarry before I reach the lavatory. I observe the butler picking himself off of the floor, a towel covering his face, I frown in confusion, but when my eyes dart over to Zephyr, they alight on the shearing blade in her hand. "Wise choice Ed. You might want to take it all off. And wear a hat. The cold winds won't treat your bald scalp with much kindness."

I'm certain that Zephyr is likely making her Please leave, Dad! face, as she often does when I interrupt her when she's engaging in flirtatious banter. But I don't pay her any mind at the moment. "Good timing too. We're going to go on a little expedition. You need the experience and I need someone to change my bandages. Plus..." I add. "I think you could use a little perspective on how the world truly is."

Litch's presence alters the mood significantly. A moment ago I felt foolish, but in a way that made me feel closer to someone. Now I just feel like a child.

"You're absolutely right sir." I say as I find my feet and right the chair. "I was thinking of just cleaning up the beard, but I would like to make my way back to the Tower at some point in the next couple days to see if I can get any clarity on what happened. A total shift in appearance would be wise.

Litch's jab at the end, about me not knowing the true state of the world stings. I know in a sense, he isn't wrong. I don't know what life is like for him. And the struggles that his family has to deal with on a daily basis. But that isn't enough to deny the hardships that are faced by those in the Tower. Or the Library. Or the Fountains. Canary crosses my mind - she must have it even harder. No flock to watch over her. No roost to call home, aside from her refuge. But maybe the isolation actually benefits her in a powerful way. Still, not worth raising a fuss over.

"Forgive my embarrassing outburst, Miss Zephyr. I shan't let it happen again. I hope." I manage to make a weak smile. "Unflappable from here on out."

"Aye, take all the hair off. Your fiery mane will draw eyes. Take all the hair off, Zeph. Leave him his eyebrows, though. Don't want to scare children." The corners of my mouth twitch up at my own joke. I pull over a chair while Zephyr goes to work, making myself comfortable while I continue to ponder the very different interactions I just came from with two of my children.

After a silent few minutes, I address Edmund again. "Why do you use formal terms to address us, Edmund? You're not our servant. You're our guest."