A lengthy silence ensued. No one got up. The Calladons were seated at a long table out of doors, in a courtyard next to the Hall, whence food and drink were being brought out to them by persons whom Corvus now understood to be servants. Some of them Corvus recognized from a year ago, others were visitors (as could be guessed from the tired mounts and dusty carts scattered about the premises). The man with the beard was seated at one end of the table; Corvus had learned that his name was Brindle Calladon. At the opposite end, facing Brindle, was a woman who seemed to be the most senior and respected of the visitors; she was called Paralonda Bufrect. Along the sides of the table, Calladons and Bufrects were commingled. Corvus had perched on a sort of wrought-iron tree erected in the middle of the table to support many candles. None of these had been lit yet because the sun had not finished going down. Diners seated near it had scooted back as he had come in for a landing, and some had gripped their eating knives in a not altogether welcoming style, reminding Corvus that he had grown into what was probably the largest raven any of them had ever seen.

“That is the largest raven I have ever seen,” said one of the visitors.

“I found tremendous size useful,” Corvus explained, “when traversing eagle country.”

“And it talks,” said another. Which to Corvus seemed as if it ought to have been fairly obvious by now. But Corvus was aware of his own limitations. He had roamed over much of the Land and knew more of it than any of these persons possibly could. But he had been to almost no dinner parties and so was ignorant of practices. Perhaps saying incredibly obvious things was customary. “I am an enormous sentient talking raven who has just interrupted your dinner party—”

“And shat on the centerpiece,” observed a woman sitting nearby.

“—and my name is—”

“Corvus!” exclaimed a woman seated down at the end near Brindle. It was Prim. Corvus had not recognized her immediately, for her form and dress had altered during his absence. She stood up and clasped her hands together. “As you can see, I am more nearly ready to take part in a Quest now than when you last saw me. I have grown bigger and stronger and learned map reading and riding and archery and other things as well.”

Corvus clucked approvingly. But in truth Prim was the least of his concerns, for he had always somehow known that she would turn out fine. He was distracted by the sheer variety of reactions that his arrival had elicited from the guests. A surprisingly large number of them—more so among the visitors than the Calladons—seemed never to have encountered a sentient, talking animal in their whole lives. Those could be divided among:

Those who had considered such a thing impossible