I wanted to scream curses at them both; but I gritted my teeth and said, "Fine — come to Birds Home. Straight to the sanctuary of the gods. Let them decide what you deserve."

TWENTY

A Mechanical Welcome for Rashid

Steck and I carried Cappie up the steps into Mistress Gull. Cappie was not entirely unconscious; her eyes were closed, but she groaned as we gingerly tried to maneuver her into a seat. I strapped her in, then took the place beside her.

"You'll be all right," I whispered to her. She merely grimaced, either because she disbelieved me or because she was too lost in pain to hear.

"What happens next?" Rashid asked, flumping into the seat behind me and unscrewing his helmet. "Do we push a button to show we're ready to take off?"

"Mistress Gull knows when we're ready," I told her.

"Then why isn't she moving?"

"Fasten your seat belt," Steck murmured.

"Oh."

I heard the click of a metal buckle. Immediately, the entry door slid shut. Outside the window, the rubber boat partly deflated itself and slipped into a housing in one of the pontoons. Although I couldn't see the other side of the plane, I knew the landing stage would be retracting back into the other pontoon; Mistress Gull gave a tiny shudder as the platform locked itself into place.

"The fishing boats are still coming," Rashid observed.

He pointed out his window. Four perch boats slashed through the light waves, each rowed by six men. The men had their backs toward us… but I didn't have to see their faces to know they were blazing with fury. Spark Lord or not, Rashid had violated the most sacred moment in the life of our village. Tober Cove would not forgive.

"They're too late," Steck said. She had taken off her swimming mask and now unbuckled the scuba tanks. Just the buckles on her left — rather than take the tanks off completely, she slipped the strap off one shoulder so she could swing the tanks around to one side. It didn't look like a comfortable position — she could only sit halfway back in her seat. Still she muttered to herself, "Good enough."

Even as Steck spoke, Mistress Gull began to move. The motion was so smooth, I didn't feel it; I could only tell we had started by looking out the window, seeing the perch boats fall back even as the men continued to row with angry strength. Water skipped beneath us, the waves streaked with spills of noon sun… and then we were airborne, angling up into the sky.

Rashid put his hands to his ears and began swallowing hard. "What are you doing?" Steck asked.

"Getting ready for the pressure change."

"There is no pressure change," Steck told him. "This isn't some rinky-dink OldTech plane — the League of Peoples made it perfectly pressurized."

"Damn!" Rashid said. "All my life, I've been waiting for a plane ride, and my ears don't even pop?"

The expression on his face suggested he was telling a joke, or at least trying to lighten the mood. I didn't want to be lightened. Turning back to Cappie, I stroked her arm soothingly, trying not to look at her blackened hands.

She whimpered.

We flew north, faster than any mortal bird. Quickly we passed the litter of tiny islets that dribbled out from the end of our peninsula… over Manitou's Island… over the great north channel and on to the rugged timberlands: trees and lakes and rocks, a region barely penetrated even in OldTech times.

"Good place for a secret installation," Rashid whispered to Steck. "Do you think anyone lives down there?"

"A few," Steck answered, "but not many. OldTech times lasted just long enough for the local people to forget how to live off the land. They got used to hunting with guns instead of arrows. Then, during the Desertion, most old-timers decided to pack up to unpolluted territory out in the stars. The rest came south after the collapse."

"How do you know all this?"

"I traveled up this way after getting banished from Tober Cove."

"Looking for Birds Home yourself?"

Steck shrugged. "Just wandering. I wasn't having such a great time in the South."

"Poor girl." Rashid patted Steck's hand. I turned sharply away.

"Fullin," Cappie whispered. "Fullin…"

I laid my hand on her cheek. "I'm here."

"What happened?" she asked.

"It was Rashid under the water. His armor defended itself."

"I didn't know…"

"Shh," I said. "Just rest."

She tried to lift her hands and winced immediately.

"What…"

"Shh," I repeated. "You got burnt. Very badly. You understand? It would be a terrible idea to Commit female because your hands are burnt."

"But I was going to…"

"It's your decision, Cappie, but you're very, very hurt. I can't imagine the damage will ever heal. Just look."

Her eyes opened slowly. She looked at her hands, lying limply in her lap. After a while, a tear rolled down her cheek.

"I'll have to Commit male, won't I?" she whispered.

"You'll be fine as a man. Whole."

"But I wanted to be a woman, Fullin. I was going to be priestess…"

She let her breath slip out in a sigh.

"You would have been a great priestess, Cappie."

I put my arm around her; she laid her head against my shoulder.

She made no sound as she cried.

For a short time, I thought I was female; then I suspected I was male; then I didn't care. Cappie fell asleep, still leaning against me. I listened to her slow breathing, to make sure that it continued.

The burns weren't the greatest danger… not in the short run. Not when Cappie could claim a new body within an hour or two.

But every year, Doctor Gorallin had come to our school to teach first aid classes, and she never failed to warn us about shock. Clinical shock comes with any major injury. Your body doesn't know whatthe hell has happened to it; it doesn't know where to send blood, and sometimes it skimps on thebrain.

I watched as Cappie's face gradually drained to wood white. But at least she continued to breathe.

Rashid was the first to notice we were descending. He pulled Steck over to look out the window; slowly, the forest beneath us got closer as we approached a lake among the trees. It was no different from any of the thousand other lakes in the timberlands — a gleam of blue surrounded by pine woods and bare rock outcrops… hard cold rock, not like the friendly waterpocked limestone of Tober Cove.

Just before touchdown we whisked over Master Crow, already floating majestically on the lake; then water sprayed in clear sheets around us as Mistress Gull skimmed down to her landing. I heard the click of a seat belt unbuckling — Rashid, eager for whatever came next.

"Wait," Steck said, laying her hand softly on his wrist. "There's nothing for us to do till the planes go into their hangars."

Planes. Hangars. I shook my head at her choice of words, and turned my attention out the window. Master Crow was easing unhurriedly over the water. It seemed so sad for me to be watching from the outside, not sharing the delight of the children as they quivered with the excitement of being so close to Birds Home. I still had my butterflies, but they'd lost their exuberant flutter. Now they were only flying out of worry for Cappie.

Master Crow adjusted his course to point his beak at a tall cliff of granite forming one shore of the lake. He continued forward ponderously, the air crinkling with heat around his wings. Just as slowly, the wall of granite began to sink into the lake, revealing a mammoth chamber beyond. Lights, electric lights, sparked themselves inside.

"Master Crow's hangar," Steck murmured to Rashid.

"His nest," I corrected her.