John Owen Theobald

ith spiders and earwigs), and that Mum would be happy I was here. I did not think

Maybe she had not gone into work at all today. If theyd just let me go home, she would be in the kitchen making cheese on toast, worried about me.

I could do was stare at the words strange, meaningless.

That made me sad. I wanted to say something, to yell out, to beg

The croaking of the ravens drags me into the present. No more memories: this is my life now

I mean, can you really be a Guardian of the Empire? Youre a bird, and a bird that cant even fly.

If the Tower ravens fly away, the kingdom will fall.

Manners make the bird, you know.