Page 11 of A Phoenix Reborn at Christmas

Then he properly looked at the bird. It was missing feathers. And it was quite thin. Had the raven been injured? Or was it losing feathers because it was starving? Did ravens lose feathers when they were starving? It was winter. Food might be hard to come by.

“You hungry?”

It tilted its head, beady black eyes staring up at him. Maybe the raven had been drawn in by the smell of the bakery. Did ravens like fresh bread?

“I’ll see if I can find you something to eat.” Leo re-entered the bakery.

“What are you doing back?” Ordelia asked.

“There’s a bird outside,” Leo said. “I’m going to feed it.” He found the jar of seed that they used to feed Archimedes, the pigeon familiar belonging to another brother, Briar. He poured the seed into his hand.

“A bird?” Kit’s cat ears perked up.

Lachlan laughed. “Leave the poor thing alone, Kit.”

“It’s a raven,” Leo said.

Kit drew back slightly. “I attacked a raven once when I was in my cat form. It was a strong bird, clever and wily, with a fast beak. I didn’t kill it.”

“Well, lucky we can buy you all the fish and meat you could ever want. You don’t have to hunt and scrounge anymore.” Lachlan wrapped an arm around his waist.

Kit smiled and leaned against Lachlan. “It is lucky.”

Leo laughed, and with one last glance at Jasper, who sat silently on the stool, he went outside.

“You’re still here,” he said to the raven.

The raven made a low, gurgling croak.

Leo threw out the seeds. Immediately, the raven pecked at them, gobbling them down. “Seems you are hungry.” He watched the raven eating, knowing he should probably head off to the Christmas markets. But for a few moments, he just watched the raven eat.

Finally the raven finished. It fluffed its wings, stretched them, and flew into the air. Leo watched the dark figure growing smaller before it disappeared.

And strangely, for a moment, Leo wondered what a phoenix looked like in flight.

Chapter

Five

“What pie do you have today?” Percival asked.

The chicken pot pie yesterday had been magnificent. The filling had been rich and creamy and the flavours complex. The succulent chicken had melted in his mouth. Combined with the vegetables, it had been absolutely incredible.

He’d devoured both pies in record time. It had been almost as good as the mushroom and leek pie from the day before.

If the baker wasn’t so unpleasant to talk to, he might ask how the pie was cooked and what seasoning they used. Then he could tell Cook, and she could try to make something similar for Percival.

“It’s a minced beef pie.” The baker smiled with that fake smile of his. “Does that meet your high approval, Your Lordship?”

Percival pressed his lips together. It did. It sounded delectable. But he wouldn’t tell the baker that. “That will be adequate. I’ll take two.”

The baker went to grab them.

Percival glanced to the back of the bakery. His eyes narrowed. “You have a twin.”

“Your Lordship has excellent eyes,” the baker said as he packaged the pies.

Percival’s nostrils flared. He wondered if the twin was as rude as the insolent baker who served him.