And his ears were attuned to every anomaly in the quiet forest. He heard the groan of trees as they swayed, and detected the distant sound of branches snapping.
Iggy.
Iggy had pulled far ahead of him, but Horseman knew he was faster, and he was no longer handicapped by sight. As he grew more confident and more comfortable, Horseman started to close in on his prey.
Below him and just ahead, he heard a slight whisper as something—maybe wings—brushed through the branches.
Horseman held his breath, folded his wings tight for speed, and shot through the forest. Seemingly striking at nothing, he punched his arm ahead of him and felt the crunch of bone.
Iggy screamed.
54
“ARE YOU KIDDING me?”
I stared at the cliffside nests the bird kids had built, at the bits of string and dried leaves. All of them were empty.
“Are they just out foraging? Why didn’t you go, too? Or—they haven’t really left, have they?”
Harry cocked his head at me curiously, his handsome face as innocent and blank as usual.
Oh, this is stellar.
He started picking affectionately at my wings again.
“Uh-uh.” I shook my head, smoothing my feathers back down. “I have to think.”
I watched him scuffing up dirt, relishing a dust bath.
I stopped moving and crossed my arms. “Harry, this has been great, but it’s time for me to move on.”
“Haaarrryy!” he cawed happily, and my face softened. After years spent on the run, I had a soft spot for strays, and the poor guy couldn’t help it if he’d been programmed with the intellectual capabilities of a Tickle Me Elmo.
He stared at me with a dopey, thrilled expression, like I was the most incredible thing he’d ever seen.
At least someone thinks so.
“Okay, look,” I said, knowing my words sounded like gibberish to him, as his language did to me. “Let’s go find your flock, and then I have to bounce, understand?”
“Maaaax Mummmm,” Harry cooed, and nuzzled against my shoulder.
“Right,” I said, and pointed. “You lead the way.”
We flew west, and again I marveled at Harry’s grace in the air. Every part of him was crafted to be as aerodynamic as possible—from the overdeveloped shoulder muscles that made his wings work almost effortlessly, to the incredible
core strength that held his whole body parallel to the ground.
I’d always been the top flier in the flock, but now I was aware of my legs dipping slightly below my upper body, causing drag. And while I was gulping air as I pumped my wings to gain speed, with feathers that cut through the air like blades, Harry barely had to flap.
On land we couldn’t understand a thing the other said, but in the sky, we spoke the same language. Harry slowed imperceptibly to coast beside me while I studied landmarks, and pulled ahead so I could ride his slipstream through turbulent patches. When I was just starting to notice a twinge of hunger in my stomach, Harry was already diving for prey. For hundreds of miles, we were in perfect synchronization.
Until we reached the Pacific Ocean.
Harry started to turn left, but something made me hang back… I had a weird feeling of retracing Fang’s steps—a sense of urgency.
North, my gut insisted.
Harry was cruising so fast, I had to shout over the wind. “Wait up!” I tapped his shoulder and pointed the other way, but with a quick shake of his head, Harry pulled harder to the left.