Crows: Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen: The Heirs of Kalistar

Hello! Happy Wednesday, and welcome back. If you’re new here, all of the previous chapters are posted on my page. This one is definitely digging up some things that have been buried for a long time. I hope you enjoy. <3

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Chapter Nineteen—Crows

TOBIAS

I agreed to hear Damon out.

It was one in the morning, and I was willing to take any out to shut him up. We agreed we would meet at ten. He will show me the start to Denali’s riddle hunt thing, which supposedly has seven parts to it, the last revealing some secret.

I’m honestly skeptical.

The whole thing just seems like a bogey man goose chase.

Beaux’s sword comes slashing right under my nose, inches away from my face.

I scuttle backwards, “I swear to God, Beaux, I’ll make you use a wooden one.”

His sword slumps in his tired arm as a rugged sigh escapes him, “I wasn’t going to actually slice you with it, I just wanted to see how close I could get without making you shit your pants.”

I scowl. I remember when Beaux was twelve and decided to line Third Castles ball room with firecrackers, all connected to one another. He never intended to set them off. He just wanted to hold the fuse in one hand, flame in the other, and see how close he could get the two without causing an explosion. And his stakes were high. Naomi would’ve had his ass if those things went off.

Most people have addictions. Beaux’s are adrenaline and fire.

But to sacrifice my nose?

Come on.

“Lets take a break,” I place my sword on the fountains ledge and sit, letting the cool mist spray across my bare back. Beaux does the same, ripping his shirt off.

“I’m hotter than the devils fucking armpit out here.” He stands up again, fanning himself with his shirt in front of me.

“You’re the one who wanted to do it over here,” I say, turning to look at the sun rising directly behind us. He didn’t want to do it in the East Courtyard, no. He wanted to do it on the East side.

“You’re blocking my view.” I say.

“I believe I am the view,” he responds.

“A lot of ladies would beg to disagree.” I shrug.

“Why is that?”

“I have more money.”

His eyes squint at me, “it’s always the damn money with you. If we’re talking just looks, I’m clearly winning. I’ve got the Arien charm.”

“I think Damon might be more smooth than you.”

He picks up his sword and points it at me, “break time over. Get up. I’m in the mood to kick someone’s ass and you just gave me the perfect incentive.”

“Nah,” I say. “I’m good. Let’s call it for today.”

I’ve been taking it upon myself to sword-train Beaux for the last couple of months. He’s really improved since we first started. He’s even got some new muscle to him.

But today, I’m just not feeling it.

“Have you seen Cadmus?” I ask.

Beaux holds his sword with both hands, inspecting it. “No. He’s been shut up in one of the guest rooms downstairs I think. Hasn’t come out yet. I’m giving him space but I’m sure Deli will go knocking around lunch.”

I nod.

My eyes wander up to a flutter I saw in a window—and my heart stops.

No. My heart shouldn’t be stopping.

It’s Sera.

The prisoner.

Sera is watching me from her room.

From her window.

Beaux’s eyes follow mine, but she pulls the curtain closed just in time.

“What?” Beaux asks.

“Nothing. Just a cool bird.” I say.

“Tobias!”

I turn to where my name was called. Damon is standing on the steps leading into the castle. “It’s half past!” He yells.

Shit.

I grab my shirt.

“Is that Damon?” Beaux asks, looking confused.

“Yeah. Catch up with him later.” I run off, leaving my sword by the fountain. Beaux will know what to do with it.

I jog up the steps and through the open doors, feeling the cool air along my skin.

Damon mutters, “put a shirt on.”

“I’m working on it. What exactly are we doing this fine morning, Damon. Because I can come up with at least ten things I’d rather be doing than chasing around a lost cause.”

“It’s not a lost cause.” His southern accent draws out the last word.

“No I think it is. I think it’s an emotional connection to your life and it’s causing you to see something that’s not here.”

It happens all the damn time with people in parliament. Their family member died of cancer. Free healthcare petition. Their aunt is a teacher in Satbury. More taxes for the education system. Damon had a connection with Denali. He refuses to believe he’s absolutely gone.Damon presses the elevator button with his knuckle and shakes his head. 

“I think you’ll change your mind very shortly.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, First castle is fucking massive. How do you even know where to logically start?”

“I just know. Have you ever been in the crow room?”

“The what?”

***

When we get to the room, located in the South Wing, Damon takes out a set of keys. Without a doubt they’re one of Denarius’s sets. After Denali died, some of First Castles rooms were shut off, and select people got the privilege of having a key to every room. Evander found it fit that the Head of Defense has access to the whole castle.

One of his only good decisions, really.

Damon sticks the key into the door and pushes it open with his foot.

The whole room is decked out in crows.

I mean the entire damn room.

There are two fancy couches mirroring each other in the center of the room. They’re a cream color, covered with dust. A black, sprawling, twiggy tree is stitched on the end of each couch, crows flying across the rest of the fabric. A black coffee table sits in between them, holding a tray of crow tea cups and a crow teapot. The chandelier is black, draped with beads and dangling crow diamonds that are carved to make the birds look as if they’re taking flight. The two arched windows have dark red drapes—again with crows sewn into them.

The fireplace is by far my favorite part of the room. Its wood has been stained black, and the ends are designed to look like tree stumps, which form into twirly trees that ascend up the wall and toward the ceiling. A clock is centered above the mantel, Roman numerals. At twelve, a painted crow has its wings tucked, and as you go clockwise, the wings spread more and more.

Suddenly, it hits me. Our first clue was the counting crow rhyme. He wanted Damon to come here.

“This was Denali’s favorite tea room,” Damon says, shutting the door behind us. “He would often come in here to write—and to drink tea. He would often invite me, if he wanted to pick my mind. Right here,” he pats the far end of the right couch, “is where the old king sat.”

“Why is it closed off?”

“Because to Evander, Denali needed to be wiped off the charts completely.”

“But clearly he wasn’t. Why would he leave rooms like this still standing? If he wanted him gone so badly, why keep a room that he enjoyed so much?”

And why would he want Denali gone so badly?

“Ah,” Damon says, “I reckon he likes the feeling of Denali existing in only places that have been forgotten. I think he likes the taboo feeling of keeping his things around, just out of reach.

“Let’s start from the beginning, shall we? The crow counting rhyme is generally used to predict future events in your life, the last crow you count to is what it will predict. For example, one for sorrow. Meaning, if you see a lone crow, sorrow will soon find its way into your life.”

“Got it.”

“Seven for a secret never to be told is where Denali left off, which leads me to assume this puzzle will have seven parts. Plus, that seems to be the trajectory of this puzzle. We get to uncover a secret. Denali always liked to have an end purpose.”

It suddenly feels very stuffy in here, like the air is stale. It makes me wonder just how long it’s been since another living being was in this room.

He briskly walks over to me, his excitement potent.

“In order to solve these things, you have to think like he did.”

I swallow. “Seeing as how I don’t know the guy, that will probably be hard to do.”

“I’ll give you a hint. His puzzles generally involved a hidden compartment or opening to find. I know exactly where to look in this room. But I want you to find it, Toby.”

“Stop calling me that,” I say.

He wants to test me. For the second time today, somebody else is already challenging me. It’s only eight in the morning.

I walk over to the couches, patting them down, dust clinging to my moist fingertips. How hard can it be to find something in a room this small? I lift the corners of the rug, looking for compartments in the floor, and find nothing. All the while, instead of helping, Damon is just standing there, useless as usual.

The fireplace seems to be the only way someone would be able to make some secret opening in this room. I make my way there, running my hands along the wood.

My attention goes to the clock. It’s much more beautiful and elaborate up close than I had given it credit for at the door. It’s massive, and the swirly hands are made of solid gold. They still tick after all these years.

Think about the rhyme.

He ended with seven.

My fingers feel heavy and tingly as I gingerly move the hour hand all the way down to seven, and the minute hand up to twelve.

A popping sound echoes from under the mantle.

“So a Dougherty can be clever,” Damon says as he pushes me out of the way. He studies the underside of the mantle, displaying that Arien grin. He slides back a thin piece of wood and out of it drops a shiny gold compass and a letter.

“Well I’ll be damned,” He says, rolling the compass over in his hands. He rips open the letter, pulling out a sheet of yellowish parchment paper. He reads.

“For Damon, whose inner compass will always guide him. Let your heart and mind guide those around you. Eugene Denali.”

He looks up at me with a content look on his face.

I’m confused.

And somewhat disappointed.

“That’s it? There has to be something else. What about the next clue?”

I shove my hand up the hole, refusing to believe this is it. That could’ve easily been meant for Damon to have twenty years ago.

I look back at the clock and quickly turn the hands until they reach seven once more.

Another pop sounds, and I shove Damon out of the way this time before he can get it. he fixes his hat, glaring. I pull out a letter. Damon lunges for me and I spin around, clutching the it to my chest.

“You want to fight me over a fucking letter? This is a group effort. I get this one.” I say.

He doesn’t back down.

“Damon. I swear, I’ll knock your lights out. I’m twelve years younger than you and in

hell of a better shape.”

We stare each other down. The clock keeps ticking, the sound barely audible over the sound of my heartbeat in my ears.

He backs away, huffing.

I rip open the envelope. It reads:

A place where today comes before yesterday.

The same writing. Same color ink.

I stuff the paper into my pocket.

Damon laughs. “Seriously? You’re going to use me to get started and then double-cross me?”

I point a finger at him. “You are crazy. Senile. You’re using this as an excuse to start a revolt against my monarchy. I can’t let that happen. As a member of this castle, I can’t let that happen.”

“So you’re siding with Evander?”

I take a breath, “I’m not siding with anyone. I’m protecting my job, as well as your fathers.”

“Of course.” He says, although his tone is anything but comforting and understanding.

“Get back to Caspian, Damon.” I walk towards the door.

“Hell of a lot better than here.”

I shut it, just in case if he wants to stay in there a little while longer.

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Bonus Content

In the beginning of this chapter, whenever Tobias talks about Beaux and the firecrackers, it gave me the idea to sort of expand on that. Behold:

Tobias’s Running List: Top 3 Dumb Things Beaux Has Done

#3: The Candle Catastrophe
Beaux once decided to light nearly ten candles in his room because, in his words, “ambience is everything.” Ten minutes later, the curtains caught fire. By the time Cadmus and I got there, Beaux was standing shirtless in the smoke, fanning it with a pillow, insisting he had it under control. The fire left scorch marks up the wall that are still there, like a mural of his stupidity.

#2. The Balcony Dare.
Cadmus told him there was no way he could make it across the tower balconies without touching the ground. Beaux, being Beaux, immediately accepted. He made it three ledges in before his hand slipped on the stone. I was the one who caught him by the back of his jacket before he became a stain on the courtyard bricks. His response? “I was winning.”

#1. The Swan Fiasco.
Beaux, in his infinite wisdom, thought it would be funny to “borrow” one of the royal swans from the lake. He carried it under his arm like a sack of flour until the thing broke free and chased him down the garden paths, wings flapping like hell. Guards were involved. Cordelia was livid. Cadmus nearly choked laughing. Beaux? He insists the swan “started it.”

This is only the top three. The list grows every week, against my will.

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That’s all for this post. I definitely enjoyed writing this one, so much mystery and exploration! I hope you guys enjoyed it. Damon has definitely started a chain reaction here, and we’ll see where Tobias takes it next week.

With all the words

—Chloe