Another half second of silence, but for steady, heavy footsteps. “And if you don’t make it back on time?”
I couldn’t say it, but my father easily interpreted my tortured silence. “No…” he whispered, and the footsteps stopped. Something scraped the phone, as if he’d covered the receiver, then he was back and fully composed. “Are they willing to negotiate?”
“Not about this.” The circle of stony expressions said that fact hadn’t changed.
“Have you exhausted all the other options?” Meaning, fight or flee.
“There are no other options.” Not that wouldn’t end with both me and Kaci dead.
My dad sighed. “What do you need?”
“I don’t know yet, but I’ll call you when I’m on the way. For now, though, I need you to call Beck back into the front yard. Then toss him your phone. I’ve negotiated a ceasefire for the next two days.”
“Good work.” I heard a hint of real pride shining through the fear and anger in my father’s voice.
Something scratched against the phone again, and I was almost certain none of the birds heard my father’s whispered order. “Get the gun and stand by the front door. We’re going out.” Then he was back on the line, and his heavy footsteps changed when he stepped from the hardwood in his office onto the tile in the hall. Other footsteps joined his, and I recognized my mother’s distinctive clacking as well as Michael’s tread, identical to my father’s in tempo, but lighter, thanks to his rubbersoled loafers.
But if Marc was there, he wasn’t walking; I would have recognized his footsteps, too.
I forced aside the deep pang of fear Marc’s absence rang in me and made myself listen as my father gave instructions for whoever was backing him up in Marc’s absence.
Then the front door creaked softly, and my father stepped onto the concrete porch. “Beck!” he shouted. Even over the phone I heard the rustle and wind-stirring flaps as at least half a dozen birds landed somewhere on my front lawn, who knew how many miles away. “Beck, your Flight wants to talk to you.
“Okay, Faythe, I’m going to toss him the phone.”
I nodded, though he couldn’t see me. “I’m handing mine over, too.” I eyed one of the young birds who’d claimed he could use a phone—one of only two who currently wielded human hands—and feinted once, to make sure he got the picture, then tossed the phone for real.
My breath stuck in my throat when he caught it, then fumbled before tightening his grip and bringing the phone to his ear. “Beck?” he asked, and I had a moment of panic, suddenly sure Beck wouldn’t know which end to talk into.
But then a vaguely familiar, scratchy voice answered from the other end of the line. “Ike?”
“Yes.” The young bird glanced around and received small nods from his peers, then took a deep breath and continued. “We’re calling a forty-eight-hour ceasefire, for Faythe Sanders to seek evidence of her Pride’s innocence in Finn’s murder. If you haven’t heard from us two days from now…”
I cleared my throat to interrupt, and glanced at my watch. “By…5:23 p.m. on Tuesday.”
“…by 5:23 p.m. on Tuesday,” Ike repeated, after another round of nods, “resume the attack.”
“I understand” was Beck’s only reply. Ike tossed the phone back to me, and my father’s familiar sigh of relief—or maybe disbelief—whispered over the line. Seconds after that, the front door closed on another series of footsteps, and the wind died in my ear.
And with that there was peace. At least temporarily.
“Okay, Dad, I gotta go. But I’ll call you from the road.” For more updates, and advice on how the hell I was supposed to get to Malone’s territory on my own, with no car, in time to get back with evidence I didn’t even have yet.
“Don’t dawdle” was all he said, but it sounded very much like “I love you” to me.
I hung up and slid my phone into my front pocket before one of the birds could demand it back, then tightened my grip on Kaci and faced the old woman. “I don’t suppose you guys have another television, or some video games or anything?”
I got dozens of confused looks, and at least five shaking heads.
“Yeah, I figured. Books, then. You have books?” I’d seen several birds reading in their perches overhead, so I knew they had at least a few.“We have hundreds of books,” said a male voice I decided not to track down.
“Good.” The classics? That would explain their stilted cultural awareness, and maybe their formal speech patterns. “Would you please bring a good selection to Kaci’s room? She’s going to need something to keep her mind occupied while I’m gone.” I was willing to fight for that one. If they gave her nothing to distract her from the possibility of her own impending death, Kaci would dwell on that, and on the fact that I’d left her. And that would be torture. Literally, in my opinion.
To my surprise, my request met with several more nods.
We followed Brynn back to the second-floor room and I studied the nest as we went, in search of anything that might prove useful. Another exit. A potential weapon. Hell, even a bargaining chip they actually valued. But short of snatching one of their little ones and promising its release in exchange for Kaci’s, I came up empty. And I could never hurt a kid, and if I bluffed them, I’d lose all credibility, which was the only asset I had in their eyes.
Besides, they’d probably cut me down long before I made it into the nursery. Assuming the kid I grabbed didn’t do it herself. I’d seen how fiercely even the little ones fought.
In the room, Kaci and I waited through the departure of both Brynn and the young cock who’d brought an armload of worn paperbacks. Then I closed the door and sat across from her on the bed. But before I could say anything, she burst into tears, her chest heaving as if she’d been holding back sobs for the better part of an hour.
“Kace…” I started, leaning forward for a hug, but she shook her head and wiped tears from her cheeks roughly with the pads of both hands.
“I’m sorry.” She hiccupped and her breath hitched, but though her eyes still watered, no more tears fell. “I know you have to go, and I understand why. And I know you’ll be back for me. I just…I don’t want to be here alone.”
I could almost hear the sound of my own heart breaking. “If there was any way I could take you with me, I would. I’d fight them, if that wouldn’t get both of us killed. But it would.”
She nodded, wiping unshed tears from her eyes with the tail of her shirt.
“Two days,” I swore. “I’ll be back in two days, with either the proof they want, or enough cats to turn this place into a great big bird slaughter. I swear on my life.” She looked skeptical at that, so I amended. “Okay, on Marc’s life.”
She didn’t smile, but she gave me a single, solemn nod.
“It won’t be that bad. Just stay in here and read, and try to forget about everything else. I’m sure they’ll feed you here, so you only have to come out to go to the bathroom.”
“Just like last time.”
That took me a moment, then I realized she’d been under a similar house arrest when we’d met. “Yeah. Just like last time. Only without the whole run-for-your-life-in-the-woods finale.” Hopefully.
“Yeah.” She blinked and wiped away more tears.
“Okay, what else…?” I closed my eyes, running through all the potential tips and warnings I could arm her with. “Um…don’t Shift. They’ll see that as a sign of aggression. And if you have to leave this room, don’t go near their kids. If they’re anything like us, they’re fanatically overprotective. Other than that, just keep to yourself and try to relax.”
But the tension in my jaw and the sharp bolts of pain shooting through my temples said I needed to take a bit of my own advice.
“I trust you, Faythe.” She blinked up at me, her vulnerability almost as obvious as her blind faith.
Another chunk of my heart fell away, and that one actually hurt. “Thank you, Kaci.”
As I left her room and closed the door at my back, I sent up a fervent prayer that her trust in me wasn’t sorely misplaced. Because like everyone else in my life, Kaci deserved better than I could give.
Seventeen
“Okay, so how does this work?” My voice came out clear and strong—a minor miracle, considering it was hiding anger, fear, and near panic as I stared down at the world from the front porch of the Flight’s nest.
Beyond the edge of the porch was a two-hundred-foot drop, ending in a broken, boulder-strewn gravel road below, rendered scarlet in the light from the setting sun.
That’s right; the porch ended in nothing but air. It was a sheer vertical drop guaranteed to stop my heart before I even hit the ground. That thought terrified me so badly I couldn’t make myself let go of the support post I gripped with my good hand, my knuckles bone-white against the unvarnished, weather-aged wood.
“You go down the same way you came up,” Brynn said from my left, and if I weren’t skeptical that a thunderbird could have a sense of humor, I’d have said she was almost grinning.
“Yeah, well, I kind of slept through that part. Wanna spell it out for me?” Another glance over the edge made my stomach pitch. “There’s an elevator, right? Or a tunnel with a zillion steps carved into the middle of the mountain. Maybe under a trapdoor in the kitchen?” I’d take a long, dark, insect-ridden tunnel over another thunderbird-powered flight any day.