“Hey, hey,” Vig greeted when he got near.

Kera looked up and gave a close-lipped smile. “Hey.”

Vig stopped. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“How did your hunt go?”

“Personally, I don’t think it went badly at all. I stopped them from massacring thirteen hippy witches.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah . . . except I don’t think the other Crows feel the same way about my lifesaving intervention.”

“Why?”

“They all started to give me this look.” Kera gazed at him, her mouth curling into a horrible forced smile.

Vig winced. “That’s not good.”

“I know! And then, while they were looking at me like that, they’d say things like, ‘Oh. Well . . . that’s good. Uh . . . yeah. Sure. Good.’ And then walk away. Since I’ve done that to people myself when they’ve fucked up royally, but I didn’t want to be the one to tell them . . . I know what I’m looking at.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” Kera admitted. “I did the right thing,” she said adamantly. “I think.” She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“You’re not sure?”

“Not really.” She put her hands in her hair, scratched her scalp. “Ahh! This is so frustrating! I’m not used to not feeling confident when it comes to military decisions.”

“I wouldn’t worry, Kera. If your decision was a mistake, you’ll know when it comes flying back to haunt you.”

“Thank you?”

“Sorry. Was that too direct? My sister says I’m too direct.”

“No, no. I like direct. Even if it means things blowing up in my face.”

Vig decided to change the subject. “How did the flying go?”

“They threw me off a building, two managed to catch me and drag me all the way to and from the witches’ location.”

“They didn’t teach you to fly?”

“I don’t think they wanted to be bothered since they’re not sure I can deliver. I just didn’t see the point of killing people who hadn’t actually done anything wrong yet. They just had some necklace. They hadn’t actually used it yet.”

Vig sat down next to Kera on the porch, their legs hanging over the side, their shoulders pressed against each other.

“Not every situation requires a full-on murderous assault, Kera.”

“Did you kill anybody tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“But we also rescued some kids. That felt good.”

“Maybe I would have been better off being a Raven.”

“Probably. But you’re a girl. And girls areooky.”

That made Kera laugh.

“Since we have a couple hours before daylight,” Vig suggested, “why don’t I show you how to fly?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Are you just afraid to fly?”

“No.”

“Did you vomit a little when the Crows took you up?”

“No, I did not.” She brushed nonexistent hair off her face. “I threw up when we landed.”

“Well, that makes all the difference.”

“It does in my mind.” Kera jumped off the porch and faced Vig. “All right. Let’s just do it. Just do it and get it over with.”

“It’s flying, Kera. You’re not about to be put on an altar as a human sacrifice.”

She stared at him. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“And you won’t let me fall to my horrifying and painful death?”

“Never.”

“Okay then.” She nodded. “Then let’s do this.”

“Now before we start, there is one thing you always need to keep in mind during this process.”

“What?”

“That everyone, at some point in their life, wants to fly. And soon you’ll actually be doing it.”

“Which means . . . what? Exactly.”

“That you’re better than everyone else.”

She laughed. “Well, when you put it like that . . .”

Vig’s arms tightened around Kera’s waist and his wings extended from his back. He looked into her face, his eyes locking on hers—and they were flying.

Heading straight up, past trees and nearby power lines, until he stopped to hover thousands and thousands of miles above the ground.

Well . . . actually, they probably weren’t that far up, but it sure felt that way.

“Kera?”

“Huh?”

“You’re not breathing.”

“I’m not?”

“No.”

“Oh.” She let out a breath.

“Now . . . take one in.”

“Can we just get going on this?”

“Not until you start breathing. Normally. Not like you’re going through labor.”

Kera took a few seconds to remind herself how to breathe normally.

“Good,” Vig finally said. “Very good.”

Kera felt one of Vig’s arms loosen from her waist and she grabbed his biceps with both her hands, digging her fingers into the muscle.

“I’ve got you,” he promised.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

Vig pressed his fingers against her middle back, pushing her chest forward and into his.