Don't worry, this is not the end!
"How do you know that?" I cry. Instead of answering, he moves his face so we're staring, eye to eye. I can smell the sickly-sweet stench of blood, like the ghastliest flower in the world. Without a word, he kisses me. As I stagger back, the ghost of a smile flickers across his face.
His breathing slows as I give a keening whimper. "Love you," he says. I plod towards the staircase and whisper, "I love you too." Each step up is leaden and heavy as I turn my head and see the body on the table. It's gruesome but the table looks like a bier. Fighting back a shudder of fear I crawl into bed.
Nearly an hour later I can still taste the bittersweet blood on my lips. I toss and turn, the blankets mounding up into an approximation of a nest. It's nearly dawn, the first pink streaks suffusing the horizon with a comforting glow. I dart out the window and perch on a tree.
The fuzzy oak leaves are the size of baby squirrels' ears; I bend down and rip one into shreds with my hooked beak. Suddenly I hear the mew of a baby bird. Peep. Peep. The sound comes from an oak across the clearing. Alighting down on a branch, I peer into what looks like a bundle of sticks woven into a vaguely nest-like shape. Small and pink, a crow fledgling, crusted with dried goo from its recent emergence, sobs for food. Random patches of black quills poke out everywhere.
Swooping down and severing a mouse's spinal cord, I chew it up and deposit the bloody mess into the beak of the crow. Hungrily snatching it away, its beak clacks as it swallows. Suddenly, I see a hawk circling around in the sky. Gently grasping the fledgling, I make sure not to tear its fragile skin as I dive into my bedroom window.
The cold, fresh air is sharply contrasted by the darkness of the room. I leave it chittering on the bed and take its nest from the tree, which begins to disintegrate. As I deposit the chick into the nest, I fluff my feathers and cover the nest.
Slowly drowsing off, I wake up when it's morning. The crow squirms beneath me as I turn back into a human; taking a hatbox from my closet, I dump the picture-hat inside into the suitcase and place the nest inside.
Carrying it and my suitcase downstairs, I drop off the suitcase at the door. Rushing into the kitchen, I see Altair, his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling evenly. Miss Avocet is at the stove, cooking oatmeal. "Now, Alma, after we eat breakfast we'll leave." she bustles around the kitchen and tosses a handful of raisins into the boiling grain.
This is the last day I'll ever be with him. When she goes out to change, I walk over and hug him. His eyes flutter, but remain closed. I put the letter I wrote for him on his chest and go over to stir the oatmeal; I'm just in time, as Miss Avocet returns.
Dear Altair,
I'm sorry about all of this. It was my fault that you got injured and I hope you can forgive me. Maybe we'll find each other again one day. I'll never forget you; from protecting me from Jack and giving me my watch back, you've been the best friend I could ever have.
Love, Alma
The rest of the morning is spent in a daze; I'm kept busy helping others pack and tending one of the little Ymbrynes who's tripped and fallen down the staircase. I never do get to see him again.
By the time we leave, I slip back into the kitchen to check on him, but he's gone. The envelope is on the floor and splotched with wet spots. Miss Avocet's voice calls me and I rush through the doorway, only stopping to pick up the empty envelope.
The memory of the kiss comes back to my mind, unbidden. I shake my head and pick up my suitcase, but I can't get his face out of my head.