“Be careful!”
“Do I look like a medic? Do I? Do I have a badge that says I’m responsible for mending idiots every time they get themselves hurt?” Her words were harsh, but she wasn’t looking at either of them. She seemed to be blinking a lot.
“Hey,” Coll said. “Thank you.”
He lay back on the grass, closed his eyes and listened to the breeze.
Rieka made him a new leg, skimming a tiny handful of anthryl from Cub and programming it to bind to some scraps of plastic and metal. It wasn’t as good as his old one. It didn’t feel like part of him, didn’t move in the right way, and when he tested his weight, it was like a sharp stick poking into his knee. He grimaced and shrugged. It was just a leg.
“So what do we do now?” asked Brann.
Coll sighed. “Wolf needs our help,” he said.
Rieka frowned, and Brann looked as if she was about to say something, but Coll raised a hand.
“Dragon is still out there, and you saw how Wolf was – she can’t survive much longer. We have to help her.” He looked around. “I mean, you know, I have to help her. If I can.”
“Maybe Wolf made her choice,” said Rieka. For once, her voice wasn’t harsh. She said, “We did our best. We found her, but she attacked us. She doesn’t want our help.”
“Constructs don’t help each other,” said Brann. “It’s not natural.”
“Yes,” said Coll. Then he said, “But different crews don’t work together, and here we are. Tigers don’t become Beetles, until they do.” He looked at Rieka. “You said it: the way we are makes no sense. It’s not how we’re supposed to be. You don’t have to come with me. I know you want to head back north and find that signal. You can do that, take Cub, that was the deal. But I’m going to help Wolf, if I can.”
He smiled. “I wanted her to see me, you know? It’s what I’ve always done. Tried to show her I can be as good as everyone, better than everyone. So she’d know I was worthy. But in the cave…” He remembered the feeling of fighting back the rockjaws, almost laughing. He wanted to hold on to that certainty for as long as he could.
“Alpha’s a good leader,” he said. “She’s a good person. But she’s not … a good mother.” He stopped. “She tries. She looked after me. She did her best to protect me.” He sighed. “But really, she’s just Alpha. And that’s … OK. It’s not her fault; it’s just how she is. How she has to be. But now I have to make my own decisions. They need us, and I’m going to help.”
“I’ll come with you,” said Brann. She shrugged. “I don’t care about helping Wolf. But Dragon’s my only hope of finding my Raven crew.”
Fillan said, “We’ll go with you, Coll. Me and Kevin.” The little metal Ant chirped and nodded.
“No, Fillan,” said Coll. “You stay with Rieka. She’ll keep you safe.”
Rieka bristled. “Oh, what, now I’m a babysitter as well?” She chewed her lip. “Fine,” she said at last. “Fine. Great idea. Let’s go find Wolf and fight the scariest Construct in the world, just the four of us.” She glowered. “Assuming we can even find it, that is.”
Coll heaved himself up, carefully balancing on his new leg, and looked out over the valley.
“Maybe there’s a trail we can follow,” he said. “Like before.”
“We’ve no idea where to start looking,” said Brann. “And wherever it is, if you want to help, you’d better get there quick, because your Wolf was hardly hanging in there.”
Coll nodded.
Brann said, “There is a way to do it … if you really want to.”
He frowned at her. “What?”
Brann said nothing, only grinned at him, and suddenly Coll realised what she meant.
“Oh no,” he said in dismay. “No, absolutely not. No! ”
“Flap the wings harder!” shouted Brann. “Not like that – get a rhythm!”
Coll had no idea what she meant. His eyes were tight shut and his hands gripped his harness. Part of him could see through Cub’s eyes, but he didn’t want to, because that meant looking at the ground, and the ground was, oh, the ground was so far away—
“Concentrate!” snapped Brann. “All together, down and up, down and up!”
Coll swallowed, and tried to join in with the others as they flapped Cub’s … wings? Because Cub wasn’t a wolf cub any more. His body was thinner, his back legs bony, his short stubby tail now a wide fan, his head long and his mouth a beak. And his front legs were wings now, spreading wide to catch the air currents, the claws gone, the toes stretched and flattened…
“Down-and-up,” Coll muttered breathlessly. “Down-and-up, down-and-up, down-and-up—” As he said the words, Cub’s new wings flapped awkwardly and the Construct limped through the sky in a staggering trail.
“That’s it!” shouted Brann encouragingly. “We’re doing it! Down and up, that’s it, nice and smooth!” She laughed. “See, flying is easy! Just remember that if you ever stop, you’ll die.” Coll opened his eyes and stared at her, and she grinned. “I’m joking! That’s a Raven joke. It’s funny, see?”
“Funny,” Rieka gasped. “But also true, right?”
Brann flapped a hand and shrugged. “Oh, kind of. But really, you’ve got ages when you’re falling. Five seconds, maybe even more. Down-and-up, everyone! Down-and-up! We’ll reach some air currents soon!”
Cub lurched though the air over the valley. It was weirdly quiet: no sound of wind, just the creak of joints as the Construct’s wings beat. Tentatively Coll peered down. They’d travelled a kilometre already, and the whole valley was spread before him, and beyond were small hills and forests and rivers and the remains of old settlements…
“See?” murmured Brann. “Like Raven.” Her whole face was different here in the air. Her hair was swept back, her skin glowed and her eyes gleamed with focus as if she was mapping out the sky around them. She smiled, and despite his terror Coll smiled back.
“What’s that?” asked Rieka.
Cub turned his bird head and peered down and Coll saw through his eyes to a trail carved through a small wood. Broken trees stared up like scars in the landscape, and on the far side of the wood—
