Raven is Not Prejudiced
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As soon as Philothea recovered a little strength, she insisted on walking.
“Sounds good,” Raven said, setting her down. “Because my back is killing me.”
Philothea’s legs wobbled. She was tired, sore, and starving, but Raven had done enough for her already, and she refused to continue being a burden.
The woods all around the little party were beautiful. Here, the trees were well spaced, and no brambles hindered their footsteps. It would have been the perfect spot for a relaxing afternoon stroll under different circumstances.
As things were, Philothea hardly noticed. Her mind kept returning to the fae king and his daughter–her family.
“Do you know the name of the princess?” Philothea asked Raven as they walked.
“Keti,” Raven answered. “Princess Keti.”
“I guess she’s my aunt,” Philothea mumbled. “She seems nice.”
“She doesn’t get it from her dad,” Zoe commented from her perch on Raven’s shoulder.
Raven smirked at the comment until she noticed the streams of fresh tears pouring down Philothea’s cheeks. Then she frowned and said, “That was insensitive, Zoe.”
“Says the woman who’s been threatening to kill us since we met,” Zoe grumbled, ruffling her feathers.
“I’m over that,” Raven declared.
“Raven,” Philothea interrupted. “Did you know the king was my grandfather? When you found me…”
“No,” Raven answered. “I just knew he hated half-fae on account of Zeno, and also because he’s a prejudiced scumbag.”
“Says the woman who threatened to kill us,” Zoe hissed, trying to move the conversation back to her grievance.
“I am not a prejudiced scumbag,” Raven rebuked. “I hate everyone equally. I’m just a scumbag.”
Philothea was beginning to notice that the person Raven claimed to be, and the person Raven actually was, were very different. A scumbag wouldn’t have risked her life to rescue someone she had only just met.
“You must have known about my mother,” Philothea interjected, trying to take control of the conversation before her grumpy starling companion added anything else. “Her running off with a human must have been a big scandal… wasn’t everyone talking about it?”
“I don’t really follow politics,” Raven shrugged. “I vaguely remember something about a princess being exiled, but that was over forty years ago…”
Again, Philothea got the distinct impression that Raven was more informed than she let on. Why did Raven insist on pretending she didn’t care about anything or anyone? Especially when the opposite was so obvious.
Zoe, meanwhile, was bending her head back to get a better look at Raven’s face.
“Forty years ago?” she questioned.
Philothea wiped her tear-stained cheeks with the base of her wrist. She knew what Zoe must have been thinking. Raven didn’t look old enough to remember anything that happened forty years ago.
“How long do faes live?” Zoe asked.
“Fae,” Raven corrected, then scowling at the bird on her shoulder, added. “Are you trying to ask me how old I am?”
“Yes,” Zoe admitted.
“None of your business,” Raven stated.
“Are you immortal?” Zoe tried.
“No.”
“Then how long do faes live?” Zoe repeated.
“Fae,” Raven corrected again. “Longer than humans.”
“Just tell me how old you are in human years,” Zoe tried.
“It was rude enough for you to ask me my age,” Raven scowled. “But now you want me to do math also?”
Zoe continued pestering Raven as they moved along but never received an answer.
“I really hope Fae finds Pouli,” Raven commented when they’d been walking some time. “Because I have no idea where we’re going.”
Philothea thought of her mother, locked away in Zeno’s palace. Why was he keeping her? Pouli must not have known about the queen’s capture, because he certainly wasn’t taking them to Zeno’s palace. He was taking them to wherever Philothea’s parents lived before she was born.
Did he know her mother wasn’t there anymore? Suddenly, a horrible thought occurred to her.
“Do you know if my father’s alive?” Philothea asked.
“I don’t know,” Raven answered. “But the king clearly thinks he is or he wouldn’t have told me to take you back to him.”
“But if Zeno has my mother,” Philothea choked. “Why wouldn’t he take my father also… or… or kill him? Why would he take my mother and leave my father unharmed?”
“Maybe your dad escaped?” Zoe suggested.
“And then ran straight back to his kingdom?” Raven asked dryly.
“I’m just making suggestions,” Zoe defended. “Maybe you should have asked Philothea’s grandpa for more information before running off.”
“You know,” Raven sighed. “I think I’d rather spend the rest of my life hopelessly searching for Philothea’s dad myself than spend another minute in the company of her charming grandfather.”
They walked in silence for a long time after that. Philothea, looking at the ground before her and not really seeing it. Her mind was with her parents, wherever they were. Hoping and praying that they would be alright.
“Raven?” she said, finally.
“Yup?” Raven answered.
“Thanks for coming back for me.”
Raven smirked.
“Well, I hate you less than Zeno,” she shrugged. “And whenever he turns up, I want you on my side.”
Philothea glanced over her. There she was, doing it again—pretending not to care.
The Fables of Para Sympan 