Two Ravens and One Crow (Novella)

said.
    A short lad with a florid complexion bounded through a black curtain that presumably led to the front of the shop. His eyes grew wide when he saw us and he started to bow to her, but the Morrigan stopped him.
    »Never mind that,« she said. »We don’t have time. Just fetch our clothes.«
    »Right away!« he blurted, joy writ large on his features, and he fled back through the curtain.
    »How cute,« I said. »You have a fanboy.«
    »Minion.«
    »A matter of nuance. Why not simply cloak yourself in darkness as I’ve seen you do before?«
    »We are to arrive without bindings or wards of any kind. No magic is allowed.«
    »What? That’s insane! First no sword, and now no magic?«
    »They are bound by the same rules. Make sure you follow them.«
    »Forgive me, Morrigan, but these Norse gods, whoever they are, might not feel as bound by the rules as you do.«
    »This is a formal summit of deities. They would not dare to cross me. Nor will we cross them.«
    Padraig returned before I could register any further objections. He held a black evening dress made of silk and lace in his left hand and a tuxedo in his right. He sort of threw the tuxedo at me and then grandly presented the gown to the Morrigan. His eyes drank in her body, and his breathing was already labored. The Morrigan surely noticed this but made no comment.
    Since I was certain she wasn’t carrying any cash on her, I didn’t particularly want to see what form of payment Padraig was expecting for these rather expensive clothes. I began to dress as quickly as possible, hoping that I’d be able to exit and wait outside before I had to bear witness to something tragic.
    Unfortunately, the dress was a much simpler affair to don than a tuxedo. It slipped over her head, and with a couple of tugs here and a zip there she was ready. The dress was stunning; the black silk was a flat matte in some places but shone with highlights elsewhere. A curling vine pattern of lace interrupted the silk and hugged her curves, allowing her porcelain skin to show through. Starting over her left breast, the lace curved between them and then underneath, tracing its way in a spiral around her torso until it reappeared above her right hip, where it fell in a serpentine wave down the front of her thigh. The dress ended just above the knees.
    »You didn’t forget my shoes, did you, Padraig?« the Morrigan said.
    A brief flash of panic crossed Padraig’s face as he realized he may have committed an unpardonable sin. »No, no!« he said, hands up in a placating gesture. »I simply couldn’t carry them along with the dress and tux. I’ll go get them and be right back.«
    He bolted through the curtain again.
    I cocked an eyebrow at the Morrigan. »Do I get shoes too?«
    »He might forget,« she replied. »How shall we punish him?«
    »Let’s not and pretend we did,« I said. »Let’s leave the poor man alone.«
    »That would be unkind, Siodhachan,« she said. »He prayed so fervently for my favor. He’s fully aware that there will be a price for it.«
    »What if he’s unable to pay?«
    »Oh, they are always able to pay. Was it Shakespeare’s Shylock who was so eager to extract a pound of flesh? I’m like him. I’m happy to carve off a pound. Or two. I never seem to have a scale handy when it’s time to take what’s due.«
    Padraig returned with a pair of black shoes for me and some sandals for the Morrigan—the type with lots of leather straps on them to wind around the calves. I dragged a chair over from a desk piled high with receipts and invoices. I parked myself on the chair and squeezed my feet into the shoes. I’d rather have remained barefoot, since anything I wore on my feet would cut me off from the earth, but the Morrigan seemed to have arranged matters so that I would be at my greatest disadvantage when I met whomever we were meeting. My bear charm was just below full, since I’d charged up in the forest before we took wing and only used a little bit of it to transform back to human in the city. It felt good to have something available even though the Morrigan kept insisting I wouldn’t need it. That was simply too trusting of her—yet more unusual behavior.
    I didn’t understand what was going on with her. On the one hand, she had nearly wept at the idea of going to see a baseball game with me. Now she spoke of carving pounds of flesh from a man who’d been praying to her. It was like she had swerved toward kindness and sanity for a moment, but now