○ avior returns home. ◝◜◝◜◝◜◝◜◝◜◝◜◝◜◝◜◝◜◝◜◝◜◝◜ this time around, avior hardly had to wait longer than ten minutes for his father to arrive in his shiny black car. he rolled down the window. "get in." he commanded sharply. avior shoved the suitcase into the back of the car and hopped into the backseat. before he could even think to buckle his seatbelt, the car was already barreling back down the road. avior knew better than to ask questions. he kept quiet and stared out the window and did not look at his father, who gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white and did not once go less than five over the speed limit. the second they pulled into the driveway, avior's father immediately exited the car and waited impatiently for avior to extract the suitcase from the back before striding briskly to the door and slamming it open. avior followed warily, dragging the massive suitcase behind him. inside, the house was dim and silent. avior did not wait for his father to speak: he was up the stairs and into his room in what felt like mere seconds. and there he stayed for the next hour, unpacking the suitcase, attacking the fine coating of dust that lay on every surface, kicking all four walls, and finally taking a deep breath and opening the door, fully intent on finding out what the heII was going on. he nearly collided with his father, who apparently had been looming ominously just outside his room. "come with me. your mother wants to speak with you," his father said shortly. had they found out about the scant in the library? the rooster in the forest? both? neither? was this something else? who had died? had they found out about the scant in the library? did they know? a thousand questions raced through avior's mind as he followed his father into the library on the first floor, where his mother sat stiffly at the table in the center of the room. ugh. he hated this room just as much as he hated the library on the second floor. what was the point of having *two* libraries, anyway? "your brother," his mother said, pausing dramatically, "has taken ill." "which one?" avior asked. a stupid question. it was obviously archer. his mother wouldn't shed a single tear if francis or avior were brutally murdered in her own home, but if archer so much as coughed, she flew into fits of worry and theatrical sobbing. it was sickening to watch. "archer," she said, sniffling daintily. "the situation is very—" she brushed a hand over her dry eyes— "dire," "oh, okay." was all avior said. for one heart-stopping moment, he had very nearly said 'i don't care' instead. "assuming—" his mother broke off and gave a great, heaving sob— "in the unlikely case that—" she sobbed again— "oh, i can't bear to say it, darling, would you please...' "if your brother does not survive, we will be left without an heir," his father said curtly. "an heir?" avior repeated. "what for?" "yes, yes, an heir! for the family business!" his mother shrieked. "if you would for once just—" "lena, please, calm yourself!" his father interjected. "well, i wouldn't need to calm myself if we weren't about to lose our only heir!" now, that was a bit cruel. archer wasn't their *only* son. now, THAT was an idea. "i could inherit the business," avior suggested. the heads of the two most judgmental people he knew swiveled to face him in tandem. heat rushed to his face. "or whatever," he mumbled, looking down at his shoes. "we hadn't considered THAT..." his mother mused. "the boy can hardly write his own name, let alone manage an entire business!" his father argued. now, that was a bit harsh. avior couldn't write his own name, full stop. there was no 'hardly' about it. "i think i'd be a great businessman," avior mused. he lied to people all the time. wasn't that the entire point of running a business? "we'll see," his father said. "there are a lot of factors to consider, of course," avior continued. he was getting into dangerous territory now, he could tell by the way his mother's nostrils flared every time he spoke. "if archer dies, do i have to give a speech about how great he was, or can i jump right to exposing his secrets?" that was evidently the last straw.
"off with you!" his mother cried, shooing him out of the room. avior thought he could be very funny sometimes. ⋘◦⋙ 'imagine being the sort of nasty person that tricks another person into being attacked by a demon' the little voice jeered as he paced along the length of his bedroom. 'imagine what would happen if your parents found out about what you did' the little voice heckled as he lay on his bed with a pillow over his face. 'just think about it! think about it! think about it!' the little voice chanted as avior did everything in his power *not* to think about it. the little voice suddenly went very silent. avior breathed a sigh of relief. well, it was dreadfully boring without the little voice babbling on and on. perhaps he should think about the demons. 'yesssss,' the little voice hissed gleefully. avior pushed the little voice to the back of his mind. it didn't need to weigh in on *everything*. why the scant had been in the library was a mystery. but what definitely wasn't a mystery was the way it only showed itself when marcus arrived. that only solidified the fact that the demons were indeed hunting him. and what did that mean? was that why alfonso lived so close to xiphoid camp? was that why the giant metal rooster had shown up? or was it just all a bit of nasty luck? either way, avior was quite happy that he wasn't the one the demons were hunting. marcus was the perfect victim for them. he was weak, frightened, stupid, and annoying. perhaps the demons would steal him away before august and avior would never have to see him again. that would be nice. marcus had leverage now. all he had to do was say "avior lied to you! here's what REALLY happened in the library," and that would be it. of course everyone would believe him. avior simply could not allow that to happen. he had to protect himself, then. he had to threaten marcus badly enough that telling the truth would never even cross his mind. he had to return to xiphoid camp stronger, scarier, cleverer, and, ideally, taller. a sharp tapping noise pulled him from his thoughts. avior's attention turned to the window and the thick curtains drawn over it. cautiously, he pushed the curtains aside, prepared to face a scant again, or some other sort of demon, or even a crow. a crow? yes, there was no mistaking it. a crow sat perched on his windowsill, staring at him with beady black eyes. on the ground below, four other crows wandered about, probably plotting to murder somebody or something. as avior watched them go about their murderous crow business, a fifth crow joined them. did six crows count as a murder? yikes. that was a scary thought. avior opened the window, intending to throw something at the crows on the ground to shoo them away, but before he could, the crow on the windowsill launched itself upward in a flurry of black feathers and shot over his head and through the window and into his room, where it perched atop the highest empty bookshelf and looked at him smugly. avior slammed the window shut. there was a CROW in his BEDROOM. the tapping on the window began again, and when he turned to look, the five other crows sat on the windowsill, looking at him expectantly. no. absolutely not. one crow was enough to deal with, let alone six! when he turned back to the crow in his room, he found that it had taken it upon itself to explore, and was now poking around on his bed. "please don't, i've just finished cleaning!" avior pleaded, then felt very stupid for talking to a crow. "is that an order?" the crow asked. no. absolutely not. he was not going to deal with a talking crow. crows did not talk. this was not real. "stop talking to me. crows aren't supposed to do that. you don't exist," avior said through gritted teeth. "of course crows don't talk. but demons do." the crow said. "hello. i believe you know who i am," "this isn't *possible*!" avior protested. "why, of course it is! possession is a common skill among we demons," avior folded his arms. "what do you want from me?" he said irritably. "oh, only to check in, of course! did you get along with my scant?" "YOUR scant? that was YOUR fault?" "now, now, i wouldn't say 'fault', i certainly didn't do anything wrong." "yeah you did! i could've died!" "were you the one that it bit?" avior did not reply to that. he still could have died. "you did a good job of fending it off," the crow that was alfonso said with something close to approval in his voice. "i bashed its goddamn brains in," avior said, "of course i did a good job," "too right," alfonso said. he hopped from the bed to the window. "unfortunately, i can't stay much longer. give your family my well wishes, and check on your brother for me." the crow melted through the glass as though it were nothing and took flight, leaving avior alone in his room once again, bewildered and amazed.
