One of the crows circled back and clenched the staff. The winged beast beat the air hard with its wings, carrying it and returning to the crow-man, and dropping it in his open hands.

Mister crow caught the staff, pulled the gem closer to his face. He brought out his jeweler’s loupe and examined the jewel.

After almost a minute of silent inspection, he looked at me and smiled.

He nodded again to his bodyguard, who took the staff from his hands, flew back to me, and dropped the staff in my waiting hands.

I looked at the crow-man, trying to fathom what ran in his mind and what could possibly be his reason for helping me. But instead of asking him about his reasons, I said, “Thanks?”

Crow man gave me a bow with a flourish. “You’re welcome, of course. You may keep the staff.”

“Just like that?” I asked, doubt filling me.

“Sure. But of course, of course.” He pulled his silk coat straight. “Like I said. I made a lot of them, part of a bulk supply the elves ordered to be handed to you humans. It is only fitting that you, obviously a human, should have one.” He paused and looked intently at me for a moment. “Of course, I should have taken into account how random and haphazard you humans are. A very interesting breed to be sure.”

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He gave me a vicious smile and said, “I hope that you take care of it, and use it wisely. At least as wisely as a weapon can be used.”

A crow shrieked from a tree and dropped to the ground in a thud, unsettling me.  Get a grip.  I allowed myself a glance, but instead of a dead or twitching body, it was a carved wooden crow.  I turned to Mr. Crow, “What-“

Mr. Crow frowned and bent his head.  “As much as I would love to talk with you some more, my time is up here.” His eyes still fixated on the wooden crow, and his tone was serious.

He turned to leave, so even though I had other questions, I blurted, “Wait! What should I do if it breaks again, or if it becomes toxic?”  

He turned to me and the glint in his eyes returned, as unsettling as it was the first time I saw it.

“That’s true that the staff may yet prove to be dangerous.” He plucked a hair from his head, straightened it and it turned into a feather in his fingertips, like a magician performing for a crowd. “You can always call on me, little one. You’re quite the entertaining oddity.” He blew on the feather and it flew from his hand right into mine. “Just blow on it to release the feather and it will always find me. It will always yearn to go back to where it belongs. Remember, only blow on it when only you or the staff are in need of help. I don’t help just anyone.”