She froze. “Uh, Fang?”
24
Fang came out next to Nudge, then stood perfectly still. The ledge curved upward toward the top of the cliff. Thin, scrubby plants dotted the area, and boulders stuck out of hard-packed clay and rock.
In and among the rocks and plants were large nests, each about two feet across. Most of the nests had large fuzzy fledglings in them, and most of the fledglings had larger rust-colored parents, and most of the parents were staring tensely at Nudge and Fang with cold predators’ eyes.
“What are they?” Nudge whispered out the side of her mouth.
“Ferruginous hawks,” Fang said softly. “Largest raptor in the States. Sit down, very slowly. No sudden movements or we’re both bird feed.”
Okaaaay, Nudge thought, gradually sinking to her knees. She wanted to turn and run but guessed if she did, she might be attacked. The few talons she could see looked lethal. Not to mention the severe beaks, sharply curved and mean looking.
“Do you think—” she began softly, but Fang motioned for her to be quiet, very quiet.
He lowered himself next to her, his eyes on the birds. One of the hawks had a partially dismembered gopher in its mouth. Its fledglings were squawking loudly for it.
After several minutes, Nudge felt like she needed to scream. She hated sitting still, had a million things to ask, didn’t know how much longer she could take this inaction.
A small movement caught her eye. Fang was very slowly extending one of his wings.
Every hawk head swiveled in unison, their eyes focusing on the wing like lasers.
“I’m letting them catch my scent.” Fang’s lips barely moved.
What felt like a year later, the hawks seemed to relax a bit. They were huge, with an almost five-foot wingspan, and looked cold and powerful. On top, their wing feathers were mostly brown with russet streaks, and they were streaked with white below. Not unlike Nudge’s own wings, except hers were so much bigger, twice as big.
Some hawks went back to feeding their noisy offspring, others left in search of food, still others returned with dinner.
“Eew,” Nudge couldn’t help whispering when one hawk brought back a still-wriggling snake. The fledglings were excited to see it and practically climbed over one another trying to get the first bite. “Double eew.”
Fang turned his head slowly and grinned at her. Nudge was so surprised that she smiled back.
This was pretty cool. She was itchy to leave, wished Max would show up soon, and she wished they had more food, but all the same, it was pretty awesome to sit here in the sun, surrounded by huge, beautiful birds, her own wings stretched out and resting. She guessed it couldn’t hurt to do this for a little bit longer.
25
But not that long.
“Angel’s waiting for us,” Nudge said a bit later. “I mean, she’s like a little sister, like everyone’s little sister.”
She brushed some rock dust off her already dusty tan legs and scowled, picking at a scab on her knee. “At night, when we’re supposed to be asleep, me and Angel talk and tell jokes and stuff.” Her large brown eyes met Fang’s. “I mean, am I going to have to sleep in that room alone, whenever we get home? Max has to come back. She wouldn’t let Angel go, right?”
“No,” said Fang. “She won’t let Angel go. Look—you see how that big hawk, the one with the dark stripe on its shoulders—you see how he seems to move one wing faster than the other when he banks? It makes his bank really tight and smooth. We should try it.”
Nudge looked at him. That was probably the longest speech she’d ever heard Fang make.
She turned to watch the hawk he’d pointed out. “Yeah, I see what you mean.” But she’d barely finished before Fang had stood up, run lightly toward the edge of the cliff, and leaped off. His large, powerful dark wings caught the air and swooped him up. Fang flew closer to where the other hawks were circling in a kind of hawk ballet.
Nudge sighed. She really, really wished Max were here. Was Max hurt? Should they go back? She would ask Fang when he returned.
Jus
t then he swept past her, level with their cave. “Come on!” he called. “Try it! You’ll fly better.”
Nudge sighed again and brushed some chocolate crumbs off her shirt. Wasn’t he worried about Angel? If he was, he probably wouldn’t show it, she guessed. But she knew Fang loved Angel—he’d read to her before she learned how to read, and even now he still held her when she was upset about something.
Well, I might as well practice too. Better than sitting around doing nothing. She flung herself off the cliff, unable to keep a bittersweet happiness from flooding her chest. It just felt so—beautiful, to float in the air, to move her wings strongly and feel herself glide freely through space.