I carefully word my argument to try to be as persuasive as I can. When I’m done, I fold the paper and slide it into my pocket, hoping I won’t need it. It’ll be much better if I can persuade the driver in person.

Once we dock, we walk out into the sunlight, unable to believe we’re free from Alcatraz. The scorpions that were injured on the night we were captured are nowhere to be seen. Blood streaks across the splintery dock and into the early morning shadows.

Our human guards don’t veer from their intended course even though there are no scorpions or angels around.

“Why don’t you run?” I can’t help but ask one of the guards.

“And do what?” he says loud enough for all the prisoners to hear. “Fight to scrounge for scraps in the garbage bin? Not be able to sleep because I’m so afraid angels will hunt me down?”

He looks around at all the prisoners. We all look unsure, tentative, and lost. “Angels might hurt others but not me. Their creatures get out of my way when I walk by. I eat three full meals every single day. I stay warm and protected. And you can too. You’ve been chosen. All you have to do is follow instructions.”

He must have been a spin doctor in the World Before, the way he turns my simple question into a propaganda moment. I notice he doesn’t say he’s free.

The piles of weapons, bags, and other precious items that were left on the pier look like they’ve been hurriedly picked through and are scattered near the dock. The only things that remain are the weakest of weapons, upended bags, and toys. I scan the stuff until I see the two things I’m looking for.

Mom’s tracker lies beside a purse, looking like a clunky cell phone. And Raffe’s sword lies near it, just where I left it, half-hidden under a rummaged backpack with clothes spilling out of it. The teddy bear that still hides the sword stares at the sky as if looking for Raffe to fly down and rescue it.

Huge relief floods through me. I run to grab the tracker and sword, hugging the bear like a long lost friend.

“You’ll have to leave them here,” says Madeline. “You won’t be allowed to bring anything into the aerie.”

I should have known. I hate to leave them but at least I might be able to hide them. The other guards leave me alone, probably realizing that Madeline has an agenda with me, and they don’t want to get into trouble with her.

I look at Mom’s tracker. On the screen, my arrow points to San Francisco’s piers. Paige’s arrow points near Half Moon Bay on the Pacific coast.

“Where is the new aerie?” I ask Madeline.

“Half Moon Bay,” she says.