Go back.
The words rocketed through my wings like poison. I plunged earthward, unable to react.
Go back.
Rage burned my spine, leaving behind a sick numbness. I forced my wings into the rippling air to slow my fall. As the ground grew closer, I spied a narrow perch near the crown of a fir. I pulled my wings in, extending my long, thin toes and curling them around the branch.
Go back.
Images of the past months—of life—burned inside. The ever-changing sky—platters of steaming cookies—Hannah’s wrinkled, compassionate face—
I can’t, I protested. I can’t—
Lark, I have to leave. But I’ll be back. My own words blew against my protests. I promise. See the blue?''
“See the blue,” Lark choked out.
Wren screaming in the Testing Room—Finch shivering in the hall— Kestrel and Hannah dying outside the Institute—
“See the blue?” I murmured aloud.
Go back.
A scruffy mechanic emerged from a nearby auto shop and peered up into the woven branches. Could he see me, a deeper patch of shadows against the trunk?
I can’t. Tears speckled my cheeks. I can’t—not alone—
The man scratched his head and turned back to his work, whistling a merry tune.
But you aren’t alone. I am always with you, Skye.
My jaw tightened. “I’ll go,” I sprang into the air, wings unfurling like a banner of chestnut and ebony. “I’ll go!” I shouted eagerly.

It was easier to break into the Institute then it had been to escape from it. Every molecule of my body protested as I slipped into the bare silence of the Nesting Room. I glanced up at the once-distant ceiling.
I could reach it in five flaps now.
And three brought me to the edge of our Nest. It rose from the floor like a concrete mushroom with an inverted cap. I perched on the edge cautiously, counting heads. Lark, Cardinal, Wren, Swallow…Sparrow? Where is Sparrow? …there she is, curled under Lark’s wing.I slid inside, careful not to step on anyone. “Wake up, Lark,” I whispered, rubbing her shoulders.
Her green eyes pealed open. “Who—“
“It’s me, Skye. Remember? I said I’d come back for you.”
Lark scowled in concentration. “Skye…”
“See the blue,” I prompted.
See the blue? Kestrel’s special phrase.
When we were sick: See the blue?
When they clipped our wings: See the blue?
When she came back sobbing after Hawk had--- See the blue?
Lark’s eyes widened in surprise. “You left,” Her broken speech crackled like autumn leaves. “You dead…like Kes-Kes..”
“Kestrel,” I answered softly. “No, I’m back. And we’re getting out of her.” I nodded towards the boys’ nest. “All of us.”

My eyelids crawled open even though I never closed them.
The nest was empty.
The Testing Room! I scrambled to the edge and flew down, landing hard on the concrete floor. My feet took over, racing down the hateful hallway. Moans from behind the locked doors confirmed my fear—the solitary cells were only used on Testing days. I pounded on the steel door at the far end, ignoring the large letters: Authorized personnel only. Animal Testing Facilities.
“I don’t believe it!” The smooth voice made my skin crawl. One of THEM.
A gloved hand grabbed my wrist, checking the numbers tattooed there. “F02. Our little pigeon came home after all.”
“This isn’t my home,” I retorted, staring at the gray-cloth mask that covered the lower half of the man’s face.
He glared at me. “Maybe they’ll authorize termination. You always were troublesome, F02.” He cackled with anticipation. “Should be more interesting than F01 and that old hag. We had to dispatch them quickly.”
Rage tinted with sorrow flooded my body, and I raised my fist.
Not that way, daughter.
I protested. Lord, you know what they’ve done—what they’re doing—
Rescue Lark. Vengeance is mine.
“Let Lark go,” I demanded.
“Lark?” The mask sucked in against his cheeks. “That’s almost funny, F02.”
Skye, I protested. “Let me in.”
”Why? Are you going to take its place?”
I needed to be in there.
He punched the intercom button. “Hold off on F03. F02 wants in on the fun.”
The reply was even. “Send it in.”

I strolled calmly into the room, smiling encouragingly at Lark. I remained motionless as they hooked sensors to my body.
“What…you…here?” Lark asked.
“Silence.” The man slapped her cheek.
I reached out my hand, but the chains weren’t long enough to reach.
“Put the little one in the maze.”

I closed my eyes as the Masks shoved Lark into the maze. Three quick notes sounded over the loudspeaker.
My heart raced as I pictured Lark stumbling through the maze, electric wires shocking her at every wrong turn. The steady beeping of my monitors echoed the words in my mind. Let. Her. Go. Let. Her. Go.
A buzzer blared through my thoughts. I stared at the door, waiting for Lark to stumble out. Whispers crackled over the speakers.
“…Boring…cat…”
“…valuable specimens.”
“but now…breeding program…F02…” The words were like ice water to my mind.
“put…in.”
A Mask emerged from a door on the far side of the room and opened the maze door. But instead of leading Lark over to the wall, he roughly shoved her back into the starting room.
“Ready,” he called.
“Wait.” The voice had a sadistic undertone. “Let the other watch.”

The Mask grabbed my wrists and dragged me into the room with him. My eyes flickered about, noticing the electronic monitors and medical equipment. He shoved me into a chair, strapping me down with leather buckles. “Look there,” he commanded.
The screen showed Lark standing in the starting box, waiting. The horn sounded, and she took off. Barely five seconds latter, she reached a fork in the path. Her eyes darted back and forth—right? left? —then she veered right.
“Right is wrong,” the Mask rubbed his hands together.
Lark staggered back into view, a violet welt covering her ankle. As she ran down the hall, the view switched to another camera in front of a large crate.
“Too slow. Release the cat.”
A golden figure, sleek and muscular, leapt from the cage, shaking his head in anger. His tongue darted out like a nervous chipmunk, licking the air. Then he dashed away, the camera following.
The Mask pointed to an electronic outline with two dots—one yellow, one red. “This beast—“ he pointed to the yellow dot. “Should meet your ‘Lark,’”—the red dot—“in, say…thirty seconds.”
“No!” I screamed, tearing loose from the leather straps. Before they could react, I was banging on the maze door.
“Test in progress, do you wish to disrupt?” The computer droned.
“Yes, yes!” I shrieked.
The door slid open. I sprinted down the paths, ignoring the flashes of electric shocks. The beast’s roars spurred me on toward Lark’s ragged gasps. There--Lark stumbled down the hallway, eyes wide, gasping.
“Skye,” She choked, glancing down the hallway. “Li—“
“Run—“ I shouted.
“Can’t—hurts—“
I knelt on the maze floor, heedless of the painful volts. “Get on my back.” Lark wrapped her arms around my neck, burying her face in my feathers.
Which way? Left or right? I was certain it was left—but there was no opening.
“Too easy, F02?” the voice sneered. “Try this.”
I gaped as all other exits closed. One panel slid open, and at the other end was the lion. His mane rippled like gold in the pale light of the maze as he charged.
I will protect you.
I slowly knelt, letting Lark down on the floor. My wings unfurled, brushing each side of the maze.
“Skye—“ Lark glanced at the beast. “We die?”
“No,” I answered. I remembered Hannah’s story of Daniel in the lion’s den. “God, please send your angels to shut this lion’s mouth.”
The lion cocked its shining head, puzzled by my fluttering wings.
I inhaled deeply.
The lion charged—and slid to the floor, as if barred by a glass wall.
A strange sound caused me to look over my shoulder. One of the walls had slid away, revealing the EXIT sign.

Lark clung to me as we stepped into the Testing Room. “What happened?” she whispered.
“God happened,” I bent over and snapped off her wires. “Let’s go home.”
“Not so fast.” The Mask leaned over us. “Do it again.”
“What?” I spat.
“It’s amazing…paranormal activities in avian-human crossbreeds...”
I shook my head. “We’re leaving.”
He stared in shock, eyes wide with surprise. And suddenly, he slumped to the ground.
Thank you, Lord.
I took Lark’s hand as we walked into the hall. I went to the keypads by each door and confidently punched in codes, knowing they were correct.
Hawk stared at me when the door opened. “Skye?”
“I’ll explain later,” I answered. “We’re leaving.”
“But—“ he pointed to the youngest ones, Wren, Finch, Swallow and Sparrow. “Their wings—so small.”

I led them to the front door. When it opened, everyone gasped.
“So big,”
“What is it?”
Lark spoke up. “It’s blue.” she said confidently.
“Yes,” I confirmed. I gazed over the land, noticing a great disturbance in the distant treetops. “Everyone, hold hands.” Soon we stood in a ragged line. “Extend your wings.”
Then the wind was upon us. It scooped us up like gentle hands plucking a leaf off the ground. A river of air carried us along. I didn’t look back at the Institute.
Everyone was laughing, even the youngest children. I wasn’t sure where we were going, but we were together. And we weren’t alone.
“See the blue,” I whispered. “See the blue.”