. . . and who still persisted in thinking so and were therefore doubting the evidence of their senses . . .

. . . because of too much drink taken

. . . or adulterants in the food

. . . deliberately and maliciously introduced

. . . or put in by accident

. . . or because it was all a dream

Those who believed that such creatures had existed long ago but were strictly things of the past, subdivided into

. . . those doubting the evidence of their senses (as above)

. . . those who found the sudden arrival of a fairy-tale creature

. . . fascinating and charming

. . . or evil/loathsome/dire

Those who had known all along that such creatures existed and who were not greatly surprised to encounter one at dinner, divided into

. . . one who rather liked him (Prim)

. . . those calmly reserving judgment (e.g., Brindle)

. . . those who hated him (the yellow-haired woman and the man with the hair on his upper lip)

At any rate the total number of persons at the table was not enormously larger than the number of categories, meaning that nearly everyone present was reacting in an altogether different way, and in most cases doing so rather strongly, leading to a pandemonium of fainting, screaming, knife waving, malicious glaring, furious remonstration, hand-clapping delight, dismay, judicious beard stroking, etc. to say nothing of secondary interactions, as when a knife waver collided with a screamer. Corvus, accustomed to soaring alone, found himself frankly quite overwhelmed and thought it best to fly away. He did not go off to any great remove but, from their point of view, probably vanished into the darkening sky, touching off a resurgence of the doubting-the-evidence-of-their-own-senses crowd.

The dinner seemed to have been terminated. At least half of them went into the hall, many pausing on the threshold to cast suspicious looks over their shoulders. But when it seemed things had settled down, Corvus descended and perched on the back of a chair that had been vacated. Still present were Brindle, Prim, Paralonda (though she had taken advantage of the upset to pick up her goblet and move closer), and half a dozen or so mixed Calladons and Bufrects. The latter seemed generally in the astonished-but-agreeably-fascinated camp, whereas Calladons, being queer folk, seemed more likely to view talking animals as part of the natural order of things.

This was the moment when a human would have apologized for having ruined the dinner party, but one of the liberties that went along with being a raven was never being sorry for anything.

“Can you say anything more about the nature of your Quest?” asked Brindle. “You mentioned that you knew which direction to go in, and that is certainly an improvement upon how matters stood a year ago. But what do you expect to find at journey’s end, and what do you envision doing once you have found it?”