Jacob Grey - The Crow Talker

Lydia frowned, looking puzzled. “The same spider?”

“Exactly the same,” said Caw. “Will you help me look?”

They sat side by side, flicking through the images of spiders. None of them looked like the one they’d seen, with its looping body, its long, narrow legs, and the M design on its back.

After half an hour, Lydia stood up and stretched. “It’s not there,” she said. “Let’s ask Miss Wallace if she can help.”

“Find what you’re looking for?” asked the librarian cheerily, as they walked up to her desk.

Caw shook his head.

“We’re looking for a particular spider,” said Lydia, “But none of the books show it.”

“Hmm,” said Miss Wallace. “Could you draw it?”

“I think so,” said Lydia. Miss Wallace handed her a sheet of paper and a pencil. “The body was kind of like an S-shape,” Lydia muttered as she drew. She captured the shape almost perfectly. Just seeing it again made Caw shudder.

“Don’t forget the M in the middle,” he said. He took the pencil and made the adjustments.

Miss Wallace squinted at it through her glasses. “Are you sure this is a real spider?” she asked. “It looks more like a symbol or a logo.”

“I just want to know where it comes from,” Caw said. “It’s important.”

“Well, we get all sorts of experts and academics in the library,” said Miss Wallace. “Let me make a few calls. Could you come back tomorrow?”

Caw nodded. “Thank you,” he said.

“It’s no problem,” she said. “Would you like to take some more books out while you’re here?”

“Yes, please,” said Lydia, before Caw had a chance to reply.

When they left the library, Lydia’s bag was full of new books, and most of them had a lot more words than Caw was used to. Caw didn’t care though. He was still thinking about the spider. If he couldn’t find it among all those books, what hope did he have of discovering the truth about his dream?

They found Screech and Glum perched on the steps outside, watching a man sitting on a bench across the street eat a hamburger.

This guy’s not dropped a single crumb , said Screech, bitterly.

Find anything interesting? said Glum.

Caw shook his head. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t be depressed,” said Lydia. “Miss Wallace might come up with something.”

Caw kicked a stone down the pavement. “Maybe. Thanks for helping, anyway.”

“Hey,” said Lydia, “do you think the spider could have something to do with a gang? It could be their symbol, like Miss Wallace said. Were your parents in any sort of trouble?”

Best to forget about it , said Glum, landing ahead of them. Get back to normal.

“I don’t think so,” said Caw. “I don’t know.” There was a lot he didn’t know about them.

They reached the edge of the park at about midday.

“Listen,” said Lydia. “I have to go now. But why don’t you come to our house for dinner tonight?”

No way! said Screech.

Bad, bad idea , Glum added.

“Erm …” said Caw.

This has gone far enough , Glum cut in. First this girl sneaks into our nest, then she drags you halfway across the city, and now this!

“Come on!” said Lydia. “It’s the least we can do after you saved us from those prisoners. Think of it – a hot meal! You look like you could do with one.”

We don’t need her , said Screech, flapping. Caw noticed the splint on Screech’s leg. The crow hadn’t complained once about the injury since Lydia had put it on.

“Let me think about it,” said Caw.

Lydia rolled her eyes. “All right, think about it. Then come at seven o’clock.” She gave him a wave and hurried off towards her house, pausing to call back. “Oh, and you might want to take a bath.”

“I don’t have a …”

But she was already gone.

Caw climbed the park gates, breaking a spider web that glistened between two bars. The silk strands clung to his fingers. On his own again, he felt a little strange. He was used to being alone so if anything, he should feel relieved. But somehow he couldn’t get himself to be glad that Lydia was gone. He brushed away the webbing.

Thank goodness we shook her off , said Glum. Let’s get back to the nest and have a nice nap, shall we?

As Caw reached the bottom of his tree, his eyes caught a movement, something scurrying away into a bush.

Was that a rat? said Screech.

“I think it was a mouse,” said Caw.

Same difference , said Glum. They’re all dinner.

Caw pulled his T-shirt collar up to his nose and sniffed. “What did she mean, ‘take a bath’?”

You’re not going to go, are you? said Glum, already settling on a low branch.

“No,” said Caw, as he started to climb. “Well, maybe.”

lum perched up aheadon the wing-mirror of Mr Strickham’s car. It’s not too late to turn back , he said.

Caw steeled himself and kept walking. In the distance, the bells of Blackstone Cathedral were ringing out seven o’clock. The sun still peeked above the trees, throwing Caw’s long shadow ahead of him, but already the foxes had started prowling. Caw saw one darting through the bushes as he approached the Strickham’s house.

We could go and raid the bins , said Screech. Rich pickings!

“I want to do this,” he told them.

You don’t look like it , said Glum. You’re all pale.

Caw tried to ignore them. It didn’t matter whether he wanted to come or not – he felt like he owed it to Lydia. She might be a bit pushy, but she’d come to the library with him and she’d mended Screech’s leg.

As he reached the doorstep he saw his reflection distorted in the huge polished knocker. He gave his armpit a quick sniff. He’d washed as well as he could in pond-water, and flattened his hair with an old comb, but he still felt like a fraud. At least he’d managed to find a new pair of shoes. Someone had thrown them into a skip. They were a size too small, and one had a hole in the toe, so Caw had cut the end off the other one to make them match. From his suitcase he’d selected a black T-shirt, only slightly torn at the collar. It had a paint stain on the back, but as long as he didn’t take off his long black coat, no one would know.

He lifted the knocker, heart beating fast. Then froze.

What was he thinking?

“I can’t do this,” he muttered. He let the knocker down gently and backed away.

He’s seen sense! said Screech, tapping his talons on the top of Mr Strickham’s car. So what’s it going to be? Indian food? Chinese?

The door opened suddenly, making Caw’s heart leap, and there stood Lydia, wearing some sort of green woollen dress. She looked smart. Much smarter than Caw. “I knew you’d come!” she said.