I had an idea, and I like to think it actually came from my own brain and not from the Voice or from Angel. And it’s so sad that I even need to clarify that.

“You know,” I said slowly, “I’m going to be fifteen tomorrow.”

Blank stares. I guess I hadn’t made the smoothest segue in the world.

“What?” Iggy asked.

“I’m going to turn fifteen tomorrow,” I said, warming to the idea. “It’s high time. I can’t remember when I turned fourteen. We’ve got to start writing this stuff down. Anyway, tomorrow I’m going to be fifteen. So we need a party.”

“If you get to be fifteen, then I get to be fifteen!” Iggy sounded indignant.

I looked at Fang. “Wanna be fifteen?”

His smile melted me. “Yeah.”

“I want to be twelve!” Nudge cried.

“I’m nine! I’m nine!” said Gazzy, jumping up and down.

“I’m already seven, but I didn’t have a party,” said Angel.

“Then it’s decided,” I said in my leaderly way. “We’re all turning a year older tomorrow, and we’re going to have a big party.”

My flock cheered and started dancing around the room. I sighed happily.

Sometimes being a good leader is knowing when to … back off.

Chapter 30

30

“ME AND MY BIG MOUTH,” I muttered, looking around my room. “Sure, let’s have a party; let’s all get a year older! Excellent idea, Max. But what are you gonna do for presents?”

The six of us had never had much, and we’d been on the run, on the road, for so long that we’d been forcibly pared down to having, like, nothing. But I wanted to do this right —’cause what’s a birthday party without presents?

I had about twenty hours. I was going to have to improvise. Opening my bedroom window, I climbed onto the sill and looked out over the canyon. I was stopped by a sudden thought.

I knew what I really wanted to get Iggy for his birthday.

And I knew where to get it.

But … I just couldn’t pay that price. I couldn’t.

I leaned forward and let myself drop into the air, enjoying the thrill of free-falling before snapping my wings out and rising.

Let’s see the doctor touch the sky!

“Do you think she’d like a bomb of her own?” Gazzy asked Iggy.

Iggy thought. “I kind of don’t think so. She usually just relies on us to do all that.”

“Well, what can I give her?” Gazzy ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Bombs are the only thing I know how to make!”

“Well, here’s an idea,” said Iggy, and leaned over to whisper into Gazzy’s ear.

A smile slowly widened on Gazzy’s face. He rubbed his hands together. “Brillllliant.”