The raven was perched on a fencepost. “Hello, Hunin.”
The only response was a caw. I suspected everyone around thought he was a crow, but he was bigger than any crow, his feathers blue-black.
I instinctively knew which one he was. “Got any bright advice for my guy problems?” I inquired of the bird.
“Fair enough.” Like a raven would have a clue anyway, even one that was essentially an angel.
He spread his wings, then folded them neatly, looking at me.
“Oh, speak English. I don’t speak raven.”
He answered me.
In Old Norse. “You’re doing well not to give into him.”
I rolled my eyes. “I said English,” I noted, even though I understood him perfectly. “Silly bird.”
He huffed up his feathers. “I am a raven. Not a silly bird.”
“Ravens and crows are amongst the silliest of birds.” I envisioned Hunin and Munin playing in the snow and grinned. “So, don’t deny it. Did you come here to help or just because you’re bored between messages?” I offered him my arm.
He glanced around and then hopped onto it, his talons pricking a little through my sweater.
“He will give up eventually. Demons aren’t that patient.”
“Yes, but who’s idea of eventually?”
“Hatchling,” the raven informed me as I set off down the street.
He was heavy on my arm, but not as much as he looked he might be. Hollow bird bones, of course, helped. “Well, yes. But he’s got my girlfriend on the verge of wanting to kill him. I’m worried…”
“Proving her strength might get him to back down.”
“Meaning he won’t want to compete with her. Maybe, but…I trust her, and I trust her judgment, but she’s not that good with a blade yet.”
And then I sensed a presence. “Great. He’s here.”
“Nice bird,” Tyz’vel said as he stepped out from an alleyway.
“The bird outranks both of us,” I pointed out.
“True. But he also won’t try to peck my eyes out.”
I knew he was telling the truth. It simply wasn’t Hunin’s style.