The whole thing took no more than two seconds and appeared completely spontaneous. I couldn’t stop staring.

The bird-girl tackled the larger boy, snapping her new beak at him and swiping with her claws, and when they fell, I got a look at the smaller children behind them. All four were quite a bit smaller. Toddlers, judging by their size. And they were all constantly Shifting.

Several arms were feathered, two with hands, one with claws. Two heads were bare and wrinkled, one had tangled dark hair, and the fourth was somewhere in between, patches of blond peach fuzz standing out on an almost bald avian skull. The children were continually in flux, and they obviously couldn’t control their small bodies.

No wonder thunderbirds removed themselves from human society so completely.

I stared, transfixed, until Brynn made another angry noise in her throat, and I jogged to catch up with her and Kaci, though the strange images remained painted on the backs of my eyelids.

But when Brynn came to a stop, I looked up, and all thoughts of odd, ever-Shifting children flew from my mind. There must have been thirty different thunderbirds seated or standing in the back half of the large room. And they were all staring at us.

Fifteen

Kaci’s cold hand slid into mine. Her lips were pressed into a thin, tight line and her jaw bulged, not with anger, but to keep her teeth from chattering, as they sometimes did when she got nervous. Her terrified, wide-eyed gaze flitted anxiously from bird to bird, as if she were looking for a friendly face.

But she wasn’t going to find one, other than mine. We were in this together—whatever “this” was.

“What is your name?”

My head whipped up and I glanced around, waiting for someone to step forward, or otherwise claim his or her question. But no one did, even when I stood silent for almost a full minute. In fact, the only reason I knew the speaker was addressing me was that no one was looking at Kaci.

When I didn’t answer, another voice called from above and I glanced up, but again failed to pinpoint the speaker. “Are you Mercedes Carreño or Faythe Sanders?”

Aah. They knew I was one of the adults, but not which one.

“I’m Faythe. Who’s speaking, please? I’m getting a little dizzy trying to pinpoint you.” And frankly, I wasn’t sure where I should look. I didn’t want to accidently insult someone by misdirecting my attention.

“You are speaking with our Flight.”

Of course. I’d almost forgotten about the mob—I mean Flight—mentality. Fortunately, I actually saw the speaker that time, though she hadn’t asked either of the previous questions.

Another voice spoke from my far left. “You and the kitten will be delivered to Calvin Malone tomorrow.…”

“What?! No!” I shouted, and Kaci clung to me, terrified. “You can’t do that. You have no idea what he wants with us!”

“We promised to remove you from danger and deliver you to him, and we will not go back on our word. We’re only letting you live because we’ve been assured that you and the kitten were not involved in the death of our cock.”