“Well… this-this is it, Jean. This is your new home.” Jean had been busy reading the sign on the gate. It was in English, and he was proud of how well he could understand it. It was a warning about the two big, fierce dogs that guarded the property and also, a guard... bird? He had moved on to his habit of walking along the curb like it was a balance beam, thinking that maybe he hadn’t read the sign quite right after all. That bit about the bird couldn’t be right. He stretched his arms out to either side, making sure not to step onto either the street or the sidewalk itself. But now the catch in his mother’s voice made him turn to look at her as she rang the bell, paper clutched in her other hand.

Jean didn’t like to speak in front of adults unless he knew exactly what to say. With his mother he was usually somewhat more talkative, but this caught him so off guard that he only managed a “What” before she started speaking again.

“Now your Uncle Ambrose may seem eccentric and stern. He is an American, after all, but he’s very intelligent, and he’ll…” She had been going full pitch, but here she almost stalled, before going on “He’ll look after you until- until I get back…”

She trailed off. This last seemed almost like she spoke to herself. All Jean could do was stare at her wide-eyed, his lip beginning to shake without him realizing it. He felt cold all over, his mind racing. Get back? Get back from where? Where was his mother going? He’d never been away from her before, especially since his father had gone. She’d taught him all his lessons, and taken him on outings all over the city. Who was Uncle Ambrose? Jean had never heard anyone speak about him. How could he have an American uncle, and one who lived here in the city, that he had never heard of?

His mother turned to him, and Jean thought it looked like she might have been crying. She opened her mouth as if to speak again, when the door behind the iron gate suddenly opened. In the doorway stood the tallest woman Jean had ever seen. She was over six feet tall. He started to giggle, thinking at first it was the butler in a housekeeper’s frock. But she slowly turned her haughty ebon head toward him, and the giggle died in his throat.

“Ah yes, Mrs. Norman.” The woman towered over Jean’s mother, as she swung the gate open with one long arm. “This way, the Captain has been expecting you.”

“No… No, I can’t stay. I just came to bring Jean. I must leave straight away.” The housekeeper raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Jean’s mother knelt and took his shoulders in her hands. “I’m very sorry Jean. I know that this is very sudden, and that it must be horrid for you. Please know that this is what I have to do. I would never do it otherwise. I love you so very much, and I will come back for you as soon as I possibly can. Until then, you... you be a good boy, and do what your Uncle Ambrose tells you. Keep up your lessons, and learn what you can from him. He knows a great deal about the world.” Jean could see tears starting in her eyes as she leaned in, gave him a kiss, and hugged him. And he could feel his own eyes growing hot as he held on so tight, as if he could just hold her there and keep her from leaving. But then, it seemed far too soon, she stood up, gently pushed him up the old brick steps, and turned away.

The cool air of the hall washed over Jean, bringing the dark scents of old oak and cedar, along with something like spices and animals. It made his wet eyes feel frozen in his face. Jean turned as he stepped in the door, and saw his mother had already crossed Rue Esplanade, and now walked briskly down Elysium Boulevard, straight backed. He thought she made as if to look back once. But instead, she gathered herself, and marched on, disappearing as the door closed in front of him. He turned away, and found himself in a dim hallway, crowded with all sorts of shapes he couldn’t quite make out in the gloom. He could tell there was a gigantic birdcage, not far down, light from a window gleaming through the bars. Wings flapped slightly, as the door clicked shut.

Jean looked up at the housekeeper’s face far above him. She, in turn, looked down at him, with an expression he couldn’t read. “You will never see your mother again in this life.” She pronounced.

The words fell on Jean’s chest like a sentence of doom, handed down by a judge from on high. He knew that she was telling him the truth. He was totally still for a moment, as his stomach turned cold. Then he hurled himself against the heavy door, pulling on the knob, screaming “NO! NO! I HAVE TO GO GET HER! I HAVE TO!!!” The cage rattled and clanged to life.

The flapping and squawking within the birdcage, at once became another raucous voice screaming “FIRE! FLOOD! MURDER! WAKE UP COMMODORE! WAKE UP OLD AMBROSE! INTRUDERS!” Jean’s fists hammered on the oak. Tears burst and ran down his hot cheeks.

“Stop.”

It wasn’t yelled. It wasn’t even a particularly loud word, but it was a command. It stopped both Jean and the screaming squawks instantly. Jean turned back around, almost in spite of himself, to find that the housekeeper had crouched down, much as his mother had done. She took his shoulders in her hands too, though even now he still had to look up to see her face.

“Ta mere- Your mother has gone to fight the great beast. She has done this thing for you,  to save you. My name is Ntwali, and I once tried… tried to do the same thing for my child.” Now Jean noticed a deep scar that started on her jaw, and disappeared into her high collar. Around her neck she wore a simple necklace, but with a pendant of orichalcum in the shape of a small claw. The light blue shimmer of the stone was unmistakable, even in the dim light of the hall. “The best thing you can do for her is to honor her sacrifice, by growing up to be the man she knew you can be. Do you understand what I am telling you, Jean?”

After a long, silent pause, Jean slowly nodded past the lump that had become his throat. Ntwali favored him with one brief, sad smile. As time went on, he would learn just how rare those were. But now, she stood up, and handed him his hat, which had fallen off in his fight with the door. “That is good. Now come, it is time for you to meet your uncle.” And she strode down the hall without waiting for him.

Jean could make more of the corridor out, now that his eyes had adjusted to the dimness. Great hairy horned heads of every description hung on the walls, low and high. He saw one gleaming, beady eye studying him from the depths of the cage. Twisting his cap in his hands, Jean hurried after Ntwali.