Ash grabbed my shoulder and shook me violently while staring at my face as if begging me. But what exactly did he want me to do? Even if I wanted to help him, what did he expect? This fool sold his soul to a talking crow his problem, not mine. And he didn't stop there; he got tangled up with the Masked one as well, who apparently heads some mysterious cult or maybe a secret organization.
Frankly, that explains a lot. His sudden power, the rumors spreading all over the Lower District, even his memory loss. Maybe it's part of some initiation ritual for joining an organization? I remember Edmund once mentioned a secret group with rites like that. Could Corvin be one of them too? I don't think so he can barely look at the Masked without trembling. Obviously he knows something, but it's maddening that he refuses to speak.
We left the storeroom and saw the crow still in a deep sleep, muttering in his sleep. When we returned inside, Ash gripped my arm:
