GERALD & THE FEATHERED BANDITS — PART II: THE PRICE OF TREASON Are you little creatures on the edge of your seats? Are you prepared for the rollercoaster of events your about to be forced into enduring? If you are, good...hold on tight. If you're not, well, darlings, you might want to invest in some reinforcements because Gerald is not going to hold back. So. Kitten and I are currently in Gerald's dungeon of deception. Gerald has apparently framed me for something. Only God knows what that's about. My crow Malaita has staged what feels dangerously like a coup. And my best friend has been kidnapped because she committed the unforgivable crime of... being correct about Gerald and his nefarious plans. Kitten paced behind the bars. "I told you." "I know." "I TOLD YOU!" "Kitten..." "FOR DAYS NOW!" "I KNOW!" "But nooooo!! Gerald's your "little General." "Gerald brings you shiny things." "Gerald gave you a fucking stick crown."" "It was a SYMBOL OF OFFICE!" "IT HAD A DEAD LEAF IN IT!" Before I could defend the artistry of my royal regalia... Gerald entered. Alone. Slowly. He moves with absolute silence, like a lion on the hunt stalking its prey. He flows into the dungeon like spilled ink. His glides through the corridors like a drifting piece of midnight. He watches us from the darkness, completely still, enjoying the quiet terror of his surprise visit. He hops onto the table. Kitten and I only know he is there because the room becomes increasingly cold. His sharp talons click softly, sounding exactly like dripping water. Kitten immediately pointed at him. "FUCK YOU." Gerald blinks. Hmmm. "DON'T YOU HMMM ME." I step between them. Because diplomacy of course. This is why I was named King. "Gerald. Explain yourself." He stares at me. I stared back. Hmmm. "Use your words." ... HMMMMMM. "Those are not fucking words." Gerald hops closer toward the iron-clad bars. Then in a devilishly lowered voice. "Hmmm." I froze. Kitten froze. Because somehow... we both understood. This in its entirety was not what it looked like from the outside in. Gerald had a plan. A plan bigger than all of us. Whatever he has me taking the fall for... whatever the crows had been scouting... whatever Gerald had been priming for... us...being here...in this moment...was all part of it. We needed to wait. We needed to trust him. We needed to be patient. I slowly nodded. Gerald nodded. Kitten looked between us. "Are you two seriously fucking communicating right now?" "Yes." "HE HUMMED." "It's complicated." "YOU BOTH NEED THERAPY!" Gerald's head snapped toward her. Oh. Oh no. I'd almost forgotten. Gerald holds grudges. And Kitten has spent DAYS publicly accusing this bird of conspiracy of treason. Gerald knew. Gerald remembered. Gerald had apparently has been keeping fucking receipts. He hopped toward Kitten. He then looked at me. And then at Kitten. Then... at Kitten's feet. No. "Gerald." Hmmm. "Gerald, please don't." He tapped his beak against a tiny wooden plaque that had somehow been planted carefully inside our cell. I wont be asking how Gerald managed to best us on that account. Anyway... Two options had been carved into it. THE TOE. or THE TRAITOR. I stared at him. "You're going to make me choose?" Gerald nodded. Kitten looked down. Then back at me. "What the fuck does 'the traitor' mean?" "I don't think you want to know." Gerald tapped the second option. Then dramatically dragged one feathered wing across his throat. ... "OH COME ON, GERALD!" He shrugged. THE CROW FUCKING SHRUGGED AT ME! I turned towards Kitten. "I'm so sorry." Her eyes widened in horror. "Bexxy." "You have nine others." "BEXX!." *"And quite honestly **when you think about it...*the big toe is kind of arrogant." "DON'T YOU DARE START GASLIGHTING ME ABOUT THE IMPORTANCE OF A TOE!" "I'm saving your LIFE, you should be thanking me." "SAVE ALL OF ME!" Gerald tapped on the plaque impatiently. Fine. I chose. THE TOE. Gerald squawked. The dungeon erupted. Crows poured in from every direction. Kitten backed against the wall. "WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT—" Suddenly... Gerald stopped them. Because apparently taking the toe wasn't satisfactory enough. No. Not in the slightest. Kitten had spent too long watching. Too long questioning. Too long publicly challenging General Gerald and his motions. If she wanted to survive inside his organization... she would have to prove herself useful to the caws. (see what I did there?) Gerald dropped something at her feet. A walnut. Kitten stared at it. Then Gerald. Then me. "What am I supposed to fucking do with this?" I shrugged. "Welcome to the organization." Gerald: Hmmm. Kitten: "I hate the pair of you." Me: "You'll learn...eventually" Gerald unlocked the cell. Then disappeared back into the darkness. No further explanations. The other crows followed. Kitten and I stood there for a moment longer. Liberated. Confused. Still technically in possession of all twenty combined toes... for now. Because I don't think Gerald wanted the toe today. The toe was collateral. A promise. Kitten had been given a chance. One opportunity to prove that she belonged. And whatever Gerald had framed me for? Whatever required him to kidnap my best friend? Whatever the crow army had spent days scouting? We were about to find out. How do I know without a doubt? Because just before Gerald disappeared up the stairs... He stopped. He turned. He looked directly at us. And he hummed. Not his normal hum. No. Not in the slightest. This one was different. This hum was... Low. It was... Dark. Almost excited even. I looked toward Kitten. Kitten looked toward me. "What is he saying?" I swallowed. "We ride at midnight." ... Kitten sighed. "I fucking hate your bird." From somewhere upstairs: HMMMMMM. "HE FUCKING HEARD ME, DIDN'T HE?" That he did. Gerald always hears. And Gerald... never forgets.