Carefully I aligned myself sideways over the crack, as the others had done. Then I dropped down, too, trying not to scrape Calypso off my back. Where was the floor? How far down did I have to go? Shit, the crevice grew narrower as I went down and I glanced to both sides to see if the Flock had gotten stuck. I felt my pin feathers rub harshly against the rock and angled them so I could still move but not get stuck.
“Ouch,” Calypso said, her voice still dreamy. “I’m dreaming that a rock monster swallowed us whole.” She laughed and tightened her arms around me, apparently okay with this fate. I definitely wasn’t.
“Sorry,” I breathed, peering anxiously below us. Then we were out! The rock opened like a huge bell below us. I saw the rest of the Flock watching me, smiles on their faces. Clete, Moke, and Rain had gotten off, and Clete was looking at me anxiously. I smiled reassuringly at him and landed with as much grace as I could possibly manage, given what I’d been through during this long night.
Calypso slid off my back and sat down on the ground, talking quietly to herself, her eyes closed. Clete came over and I did our weird hug where I put my arms out, pretended to hug him, then pulled them back. He wasn’t crazy about being touched.
Moke was running his hands through his hair, making it stand up wildly. He looked upset and angry—the Rainbow was having a Mokelike effect on him, just like it was having a Calypsolike effect on Calypso and a Rainlike effect on eyeless Rain. It was like it was taking all the parts of their personalities and making them stronger, larger, too big for the bodies that were supposed to hold them. Rain had sunk down, curled up, and was moving her hands gently in front of her face, as if writing something that she could still see.
Now I could look around. I had to press my teeth together so my mouth wouldn’t drop open like a gaping fish. The Flock hadn’t been lying to me. There was a village here, spread out beneath the enormous, endless overhanging canyons. Multiple “streets” branched off from this entrance, winding away as far as I could see. Dim, predawn lights were coming on as the inhabitants woke and started their day.
Buildings were carved into the stone sides of the canyon. Some of them were obviously businesses, their windows stocked with wares. But sometimes I could see curtains hanging at a window, or even plant boxes that made me think it was a house.
Not just a house. Someone’s home.
There were rows and rows of them leading up and back to the very last wall of this overhang, and the village continued on the other side, leading through connected canyons. In the middle of this main canyon, water flowed quickly, strongly, through a narrow channel. Most of it was covered with walkways to the other side, but I could still see and smell it as it rushed by.
I inhaled deeply. Yes. I could smell the water, and right away I knew that it was a water smell, like, of the water itself, not the chemicals or sewage or whatever always pollutes water. I thought maybe if I took a bath in this water, I might actually come out clean.
“Where does the water come from?” I asked.
A man I hadn’t noticed before stepped forward. “We’re lucky—we have two separate natural springs in Tetra. We still filter the water, but mainly for sediment. This water is continuing to create our home, digging it a tiny bit deeper all the time.”
The man’s skin was very dark—he was much shorter than me and had a nice smile and straight red hair. I could hardly see his eyes because his smile had almost squeezed them shut. He came toward me and I automatically tensed, moving one foot backward to be in a strong fighting stance.
Still smiling, he came toward me very slowly. “My name is Durrel.”
I shook his hand, still tense and awkward. All this civilization was going to wear me out. “Hawk.”
CHAPTER 61
“Okay, we have to go,” Fang said abruptly. He still seemed wired with tension and looked like shit. It felt like a month since we’d broken him out of prison—had it really just been yesterday? His face was bruised, he had big dark circles under his black eyes, and his cheeks were hollowed out like he had something in him, sucking him dry.
He didn’t look like someone who’d be all geared up to go somewhere. Gazzy went to him, put his hand on Fang’s shoulder, and said, “We gotta eat, man. Birds need fuel, ya know what I’m sayin’?”
Fang gave Gazzy a look that, if he looked at me that way, I’d either run or pull out my knife. Probably run. Fang was pretty much the only person in the world I’d run from. He was that scary. Sometimes.
Clete edged over to me and whispered, “I’m hungry, too.”
As soon as he said that, my innards suddenly felt like they’d been empty for days or maybe weeks, like I was just waiting for someone else to admit to the weakness of being hungry. I looked at Calypso, talking to herself, Rain, writing her invisible words, and Moke, who looked ready to kill something. When was the last time their captors had given them anything but dope or Rainbow?
There was a carved-stone bench nearby and I sat down on it, my legs shaky. I pretended to be interested in its carved decorations, stuff out of kids’ books, like that kind of rat with the super fluffy tail. I ran my fingers over it, trying to remember the word for this made-up animal. Fox? That sounded right. Like I’d told Calypso about horses, they weren’t real. Unless… I let my hand fall away. I didn’t think this canyon was real. I didn’t think my mom and dad were real. I’d never really liked being wrong, but I guess sometimes it’s not a bad thing.
“Hello! Hello! Welcome!” A woman came up, this one with light tan skin, short, shiny black hair, and black eyes like Fang, only like a thousand degrees friendlier.
I guessed she was some kind of ware seller, trying to get the newcomers to fork over some coin. But I was surprised when Nudge hugged her. They talked quietly for a few minutes. The woman looked over Nudge’s shoulder at me, the lab rats, Fang. She smiled and nodded several times, taking Nudge’s elbow. Then she went to hug Gazzy and Iggy. She seemed to know not to hug Fang, who was pacing nearby, or me, who was giving her the uninterested-in-your-wares look.
“Hello, Phoenix,” she said warmly, and my eyes narrowed. “My name is Ying. I run the care center here. Nudge says some of your friends are addicted to Ope, and are also on Rainbow right now,” she said, shocking me. Her voice was kind, but she was kind of throwing it right out there, you know?
Fang clapped his hands. “We. Have. To. Go. Now,” he said loudly.
“Hang on, Fang,” Iggy said. “We’re making arrangements.”
“Uh-huh,” I said to Ying, pointing subtly to Moke, Rain, and Calypso.
“At the care center we can wean them off the drugs,” Ying said. “We’ve had tremendous success with many nomads who have found us. Would you like us to take care of your friends?”
Oh, god, yes, I thought, then felt so guilty. I should be the one taking care of them.
Someone put their arm around my shoulder and I whirled.
“Hi,” Nudge said. “I just wanted to pop over and remind you that you yourself are still technically a child, so let someone else take care of them for a while, huh?”
Outraged, I opened my mouth, and Nudge shoved a burrito into it. It was hot, smelled fantastic, and tasted like it might even have real cheese.
“Umph,” I said, taking hold of it, biting off a mouthful. I swallowed almost without chewing, feeling the beans and cheese and tortilla starting a party in my stomach. “Oh, god,” I murmured as I wolfed down a second bite.
Ying smiled. “I’d like you to let us take care of your friends.”
I chewed and thought. I didn’t know where I was going, what I’d be doing. It sounded like the Flock was going to go rescue their friend Max, the rebel. The freedom fighter. Possibly my mother. I didn’t know.
This place was paradise, unless it was all a cruel sham. But I knew tricksters and shams, and Ying didn’t feel like one. You can’t fake that sort of kindness. Sadly, I finished the burrito and admitted that actually I probably couldn’t take care of the lab rats the way they neede
d. I was so used to being the one in charge, the one who took care of—everything. To hear that, to the Flock, I was still (technically) a child was their mistake, one I’d have to correct soon. I’d stopped being a child the day I was left behind on the corner.
“There’s also Clete,” I whispered, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Some cheese stuck to me and I ate it, licking my hand clean.
“The tall boy, there?” Ying asked, pointing to Clete. Clete also had a burrito and a drink, too. He looked happy.
“Yes. He doesn’t like change,” I said. “Or new people. And Rain”—I pointed—“they took her eyes. Just a few days ago she had eyes.”
“You guys have been through a lot,” Ying said, her hand on my arm. “The wound on your face—it looks fairly new. I could help fix it up a bit.”
“We go through a lot every day. It’s kind of what we’re used to. But usually, we’re doing it together. So I should stay and help.”
“No,” Gazzy said, walking up to us. He handed me a small, heavy, vestlike backpack. “Put this on. You’re coming with us.”
CHAPTER 62
Five minutes later I was flying over the desert. The sun, just coming up, was radiating out amazing colors of red-peach-gold light. At home, dawn was gray—you just noticed that suddenly you could see more stuff, most of it pretty ugly.
This—this was so different I wanted to cry, but I’d take that secret to the grave. The greasy gray-green haze over the City of the Dead was completely gone. We were in a sky of blue, blue, blue—the bluest blue. It was so easy to breathe—I could gulp deep breaths of air and not cough, not have to swallow a bad taste.
Speaking of taste, the vest Gazzy had given me was full of pockets, all stuffed with food. There had been two more burritos, some filled with scrambled egg (maybe real?) and sausage that didn’t taste like cardboard. Every pocket had cool new food, all of it 1,000 percent better than anything I’d ever had.
It helped to know that the lab rats were getting the same food. Saying good-bye had been hard, especially since the more I wanted to leave, the guiltier I felt. In the end I had fled, jumping straight up and flying out of the cavern like the Flock.
“Don’t think about it,” I muttered, and unclipped the clear tube leading over my shoulder. Why was my vest heavy? Because I was carrying thirty liters of water on my back! Anytime I wanted I could just unclip the tube and drink! And it was all water from Tetra, which was amazing. Anything I’d drunk before now had been like—old laundry water or something. This was a totally new thing. It tasted like blue sky.
And the desert. I’d never seen it during the day. In the sunlight and clear air, the desert was beautiful, shades of colors I didn’t even know the name of, shadows playing in all the ridges of sand, almost making pictures below us.
Gazzy had told me this would be a long flight. He’d asked what was the longest I’d ever been up in the air, and I’d told him maybe an hour? I mean, I always took little breaks on top of buildings whenever I wanted, you know? Why worry about building up your stamina when you’ve got no place to go?
Now I noticed that my wings were getting tired. The Flock was getting ahead of me, little by little. I wondered when or if the Flock was going to take a rest stop, but there was no way I’d ask for one.
About two and a half hours out, I was definitely flagging. The desert was slowly giving way to swaths of trees, most of them I didn’t know the names of. The only time I’d seen any trees in one place was inside Pietro Pater’s walled garden. It had been green there, full of trees and vines and grass and the heavy scent of some tiny orange flowers growing on a trellis.
I took a sip of water to clear my head. Pietro was another thing I wasn’t going to think about.
Soon the ground below us was completely covered with trees no one was growing on purpose, like in a garden. They were just there: wild trees.
“Time for a break!” Gazzy yelled, and I thought, Thank god. Then I thought that this new sun was the most beautiful, most powerful thing I’d ever seen. So I thought, Thank the sun. The sun would be my goddess, like some people at home worshipped little statues.
It was such a relief to be able to slowly circle a small clearing and finally come to a still-graceless landing, this one caused by my total exhaustion. I flopped onto the grass, hearing the buzzing of insects and the calls of birds I’d never seen. I left my wings outstretched so they could cool and drank water for a long time.
When I finally sat up, the Flock was sitting on the grass, eating.
“Come on,” Iggy said to me. “Eat fast so we can get back up.”
“How much further is it?” I asked, then could have slapped myself.
Fang looked at me. “Are you wiped?”
Yes. “No, of course not,” I said stiffly. “I’m just curious, is all.”
“Better eat something,” Nudge said, her mouth full. “We have a way to go.”
“I… I’m out of food,” I said, and four pairs of eyes widened and looked at me.
“Did some, like, drop?” Gazzy asked. “Or did you actually eat everything in your vest?” I thought I saw a smile trying to escape his mouth, but everyone else looked serious.
I looked off to the side, trying to act cool. “I was hungry.”
Gazzy broke out laughing, and after a moment Nudge joined him, then Iggy. I even saw Fang smile slightly.
“I guess this is the best food you’ve had in a while, huh?” Iggy said, giving me one of his hand pies. I wished I could be proud and say no, but let’s just say he drew his hand back with no fingers missing.
“It’s the best and most food I’ve had ever,” I said, cramming the pie into my mouth.
“Are you going to be okay to fly over water?” Fang asked.
“Sure, why not?” I asked, spitting crumbs.
“We’re going to be over water for a long time,” Fang said. “We won’t be able to take rest stops. It’s an ocean.”
I frowned. “What’s an ocean?”
CHAPTER 63
“I mean, I know it’s a lot of something, like an ocean of potato flour or something. But what’s this an ocean of?” As usual, I felt like an Ope-addled idiot. There was so much I didn’t know.
Nudge was the first to speak. “This is an ocean of water, and it’s literally called ‘the ocean.’ There are a couple different oceans, but we’re just flying partway over one.”
“I don’t get it,” I said stubbornly.
“So… your schooling has been lax,” Iggy murmured, which totally pissed me off.
“My schooling has been nonexistent!” I snapped, jumping to my feet. “I was stealing food from dogs and begging for coins when I was six! Then I was scooped up and brought to the Children’s Home, and you all saw what that was like! At no point during my life has there been ‘schooling’! And you all know whose fault that is, right?”
I turned and stalked away, but not before I saw a look of shock and horror on Fang’s face. Because he had left me. Because he and Max had given me that fate. That look… was what finally convinced me that he was my father. Now I knew for sure.
“Hey, it’s okay!” Gazzy called after me. “Our schooling was totally lax, too! I taught myself to make bombs from online videos!”
“I read some old encyclopedias,” said Nudge. “Then I would pelt everyone with facts.”
I turned around and leaned against a tree, a little calmer.
“But who taught you guys to read?” I asked.
They all looked at one another and then answered at the same time, “Max.”
Nudge stood up and brushed off her hands. “Do you need anything else to eat?” she asked me. “We’ve all got extra.” Gazzy started to say something, but she shot him down with a look. “How much water do you have left?”
I hadn’t known we were supposed to be rationing it. “A bunch.”
Fang had been very quiet since I’d snapped. Now he came over but didn’t look me in the eye. “We’ll be flying over nothing but water
for several hours,” he said calmly. “Longer than our flight here. There’s no land, no place to stop. Can you make it?”
Oh, my sun, no. “Yeah. Of course.”
I felt Nudge and Gazzy exchanging looks. A tiny, weaselly part of me was maybe hoping that one of them would insist I stay here. I would protest, they would be firm, and I would finally give in. Then I’d take a long, long nap beneath these weird trees.
Fang looked like he really wanted to do that, but in the end no one insisted.
Shit. I mean, it sounded like, like, a lot of water? With no banks or edges? I couldn’t picture what they were describing.
I took a couple of deep breaths, adjusted my vest, and tried to look ready to go.
“Okay. Let’s do this!”
One by one the Flock ran and leaped into the air, snapping their wings out. It was still amazing to see other people’s wings. Nudge’s were beautiful, a soft brown, with shades of white beneath and black speckles on top. Fang’s were solid black, so shiny that they looked almost purple with the sun on them.
I didn’t have time to linger over Gazzy’s and Iggy’s—it was time to fly.
Just like them, I ran and threw myself into the sky.
CHAPTER 64
Okay. An ocean. “The” ocean. It was goddamn big. Obviously, I’d never seen that much water, or even flown over any natural water except the rivers and smaller lakes we’d passed this morning. And—when I saw it ahead, my brain could barely process it. It was trees, trees, trees, then sand like in the desert but only a thin strip. Then, just water.
When we left land behind and were suddenly over the ocean, it was like—like I didn’t know how to fly over water. Without land underneath I felt like I would just drop out of the sky.
We were up higher than I’d ever been. There was way more wind, sometimes with us, sometimes against us. There were still goddamn bugs. But below us, only water. Above us, only sky. I was in a dream, only no dream I’d ever had.
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