Petie sat on the bus, staring with longing up at the huge Wyoming sky. It was bluer than he'd remembered, but just as wide and empty.
Cai cawed softly, and rustled his feathers.
Soon, Petie promised. They'd been sitting inside for a really long time, first at the airport in Seattle, then on the airplane, then at the next airport in Denver, and now here on the bus on the way to Ravens' Hall. At least it was warm on the bus; the plane had been so cold Petie had put on both his jacket and his hat, and had asked for a blanket and a hot chocolate. Now, he could sit in just a T-shirt and jeans and not shiver.
Petie wanted to go and run and fly as much Cai did. His skin felt tight and everything was closing in. Only out there could he breathe.
"Wow," said the boy sitting beside Petie. He leaned over Petie to get a better look at the sky. He had darker hair and skin than Petie—actually, than most of the boys and girls on the bus. His face was thin and pinched, as if it had been carved by the wind. He wore a blue denim shirt that was too big for him, jeans that were too small, no socks, and beat-up high top sneakers.
Petie didn't say anything about the boy crowding him because that was polite and what his mom would have wanted.
"I ain't never seen sky like that," the boy said, finally leaning back.
"This is your first time to Ravens' Hall?" Petie asked, surprised. The boy was older than he was, nine at least, while Petie had just turned seven.
"Yeah. My mom couldn't afford to send me."
"Oh," was all Petie said.
Was the boy lying? Or did his parents only just find out about the money the school gave out? Petie had had to take even more tests, study outside of school, so their family could get the money. He'd worked hard, wanting Mom and Dad to be proud of him.
"I'm Jesse," the boy said. sticking out a dark, muscled hand. The fingernails were chewed off and torn, and there was dirt around the edges of them, as if his mom didn't make him scrub often enough.
"Petie, Peter," he replied, still not sure which he liked better.
"Petie-Peter. I like that. Call you the double-P. Or Two-P. Tupe."
Petie smiled and nodded though he wasn't sure if Jesse was making fun of him or not. "Where are you from?" Petie asked.
"Virginia," Jesse said. "Most recently. But we've lived lots a places."
"I've only ever lived in Seattle," Petie admitted.
"Seattle, huh? How can you stand all that rain?"
"In the winter, there's a lot, yeah. But it's really sunny in the summer. And there are mountains."
"And blue sky?" Jesse asked, with a real smile.
"And blue sky," Petie replied.
They both turned to look out the window. Petie could almost taste the cool wind and thin air up above them.
"Maybe I'll hitch a ride. Come visit someday," Jesse said.
"Really? All that way?"
Petie tried to imagine it. Flying all day, then what—human at night? Naked and lost in some cold city alley, hungry and alone? He shivered.
"Sure. Lots cheaper than airplanes."
"But it would take days. Months! Wouldn't you miss your Mom and Dad? And what about school?" Petie stared at Jesse.
Jesse shrugged. "Dad's gone. Mom works two jobs to support us. She don't have time to miss me. And I wouldn't miss school much, either."
"Huh," Petie said, turning back to the window. Going to Ravens' Hall for two weeks was bad enough—at least he'd be able to call home every night, and his parents were coming to Wyoming to pick him up. But flying across the country like what Jesse suggested, always alone…
Cai puffed himself up, feathers brushing up against Petie.
He wasn't really alone. He wrapped a little tighter around Cai. He wouldn't ever truly be alone, not ever again.
"Do you want to sit next to the window?" Petie offered after a few more minutes of gazing at the sky.
"Yeah," Jesse said eagerly.
Petie slid over, across the bus seats, while Jesse awkwardly climbed over him. Petie couldn't see as well, but his mom would be proud of him.
By the time they reached Ravens' Hall, Petie regretted his offer: The inside of the bus was too dark, and he'd been cooped up for so long he felt like he was going to burst. His skin felt tighter than ever and the air seemed stale.
Petie eagerly stood with the other boys and shuffled toward the front, eager to breathe the clear air, regardless of how cold it might be.
As soon as his feet touched the earth, Pete struck off immediately toward the hall, barely holding himself back from running. It was as big as he remembered, white and looking as if it were carved out of the cliff behind it, some kind of cool castle. He saw the ravens sitting on the balcony and window railings. He grinned and took a hitching step, about to run and greet them.
"Hey, you! Don't forget your bags!"
Petie folded in on himself. He didn't want to get his bags and be more weighed down. He still made himself turn around.
"Yeah," one of the other boys said. "We're not carrying them for you."
The tall boy standing next to him laughed meanly. "Besides, isn't it the custom for the younger boys to carry the bags of the older boys?" he asked.
"You got it. Show some respect for your elders," said the first boy.
Petie didn't want to walk back to get his bags now. The two tall boys stood between him and the bus. They were dark like him, with bleached blond hair, wearing basketball jerseys that hung on them, making them seem stretched out. Petie clenched his fists and started walking back anyway, trying to stay out of arm's reach and go around them.
"Oops," was all he heard before a hard hand pushed him.
Cai didn't let Petie fall. He stumbled, flailing, but Cai regained their balance quickly. Then Cai ruffled up his feathers and squawked at the boys, ready to fight.
The boys gave an uneasy laugh, taking a step back.
A warm presence loomed at his back—Jesse—also ready to fight.
No. Petie struggled to unclench his hands, to take control. They're bigger, taller.
No fly away, Cai sneered.
Prefect Kitridge suddenly stood between the two groups.
"Back off. All of you."
Petie shook himself, abruptly in control.
"Chris, Thomas—y'all can't even get into the hall 'fore you're causing trouble," the prefect said. Her blazing orange and green hair stood out on all ends like a spiky ball. Her dark gray eyes were the color of storm clouds. She wore a black leather vest that showed off the bright red and blue tattoos that decorated her arms from shoulder to elbow. She had a nose ring and, since last summer, had added a lip ring.
The two tall boys nodded and shuffled off.
Then the prefect turned and glowered at Petie and Jesse. "Petie, I'm disappointed in you. I thought you had better control. And you," she said, turning her glare on Jesse. "Just 'cause you're new here don't mean you get a pass. No fighting."
"Yes ma'am," Petie said meekly. He hadn't meant to fight.
"Yes ma'am," Jesse repeated.
With one last glare, Prefect Kitridge stomped off.
"Wow," Jesse said softly. "Ain't she somethin'."
Petie bit his lip, then shrugged. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I didn't mean to get you into trouble."
"No trouble at all, little man," Jesse replied breezily. "Just trying to even the odds."
Petie suddenly liked his odds better, of being happy here at Ravens' Hall.
Maybe it wouldn't just be him and Cai anymore.
* * *
The Warrior Room looked kind of like the gym at Petie's school, but the wood floor was dark, not light, and more dark wood covered the walls, making the room feel small and closed in. The bright, caged lights hanging from the ceiling reflected off the wood, but not in a shiny, distracting way. The smell of human sweat and bird feathers lingered.
On the far wall, rows of long, wooden, pale sticks were held snugly by racks. Some had knives tied to the tops of them with bright red and yellow artificial feathers. Flashy martial arts swords hung on the next wall. Ropes, masks, and body armor lay in neat piles in the corner between them, a colorful, dangerous collection.
Big signs outside the door proclaimed "No shoes!" so Petie took his off just before he walked in, placing them and his socks in one of the cubbies beside the door. The room was warm, like all of Ravens' Hall, so Petie felt comfortable in his T-shirt and jeans.
Petie had never trained in the Warrior Room before. Prefect Aaron had said he was too young the last time he was here. But the assignment had just showed up on the revised schedule slipped under his door.
It wasn't just for today, but every day for the whole two weeks.
When the two tall boys—the troublemakers, Chris and Thomas—came in the door, Petie wondered if there had been a mistake. Or maybe a trick.
But Prefect Kitridge came in next, as did half a dozen other kids, though most of them were older than Petie. Today she wore a white tank top and loose, brown yoga pants. Her blue and red tattoos looked washed out in the harsh lighting, but her orange and green hair still shone brightly.
Kitridge walked slowly to the front of the room, put her fingers in her mouth, and whistled. No one had been talking that loudly, but now she had everyone's attention. "Y'all are here for training as fighters and warriors. That means training and training only. No fighting, not here, not anywhere on school grounds. Do y'all understand?"
Petie muttered, "Yes, ma'am," with everyone else.
"The number one thing I'm here to teach you is control. Y'all are fierce, and some of you think you know how to fight." She paused and glared at the troublemakers. "But y'all got no finesse."
Petie shook his head. He wasn't even certain what finesse was.
"I'm here to teach you how to be subtle, how to be in control, and how to stay in control, even when your blood's racing and your hands are itching and you're raring to go."
Did she mean be in control of Cai? He remembered the fight from the day before, when he hadn't been in control, not really.
"Today, you're gonna learn how to fall. If you don't know how to fall, you're just gonna get hurt. Now, Petie, right?"
Petie swallowed nervously and nodded.
Cai puffed himself up defensively.
"Come on over here and show 'em how it's done."
"Me?" Petie shook his head, ashamed at how his voice squeaked.
The other kids laughed.
Kitridge just tsked at them. "Y'all know why I insist on a range of ages for this class? It's because Petie here will do this better than any of you. There'll be some things that y'all will do better than him, at least to start. But in this one thing, falling, which is the most important thing, he'll do it best. Come 'ere."
Petie gathered himself together and walked next to Kitridge. Her gray eyes were almost kind.
"Now, I want you to curl to the side when I push you, okay?" She showed him where she expected him to tuck himself, then she shoved him, hard.
Petie curled and rolled, automatically coming back up to his feet.
"Did you see that?" Kitridge asked the rest of the class. "That was exactly right." She had Petie demonstrate a few more times.
Petie bit his lips to hide his smile: His mom wouldn't want him to gloat, even if he was really good at this.
"That's great," Kitridge said. "None of y'all will do that good."
"Of course he can fall. He's short. Closer to the ground," one of the tall boys complained.
"Chris, right? Come here."
Chris glanced at his buddy, then swaggered forward. Though he was tall, Kitridge looked him directly in the eye. "Push me," she said.
Chris shrugged, looked again at his buddy, then suddenly shoved her, without warning, moving much faster than Petie expected.
Kitridge flowed and folded, rolled, and stood just as quickly, shooting up and shoving Chris just as hard.
Chris stumbled, but didn't fall. Instead, he shook his head and spread his arms, bent over, his eyes raven-hard.
Petie couldn't see feathers, but he knew they were close to the surface.
Cai shuffled restlessly, suddenly very awake and near.
Petie held both of them very still.
"You're not really thinking of attacking me, are you sugar?" Kitridge shook her head. "I wouldn't."
Chris gave a shudder and stood up tall again. "No." His voice sounded full and human.
Cai relaxed and Petie grew less tense.
"That's good. Now, even with your height, you can learn to fold and fall. And you must." Kitridge stared hard at Chris.
Chris broke the look first. "Yes, ma'am."
Kitridge had them drag out soft mats, then directed them to fall, over and over again.
Though Petie was good at it, he learned more about controlling his hands and his arms, as well as falling on both his left and right side.
Toward the end of class, Kitridge paired each student up with someone about the same height. Petie was paired with one of the three girls in the class, Sylvia. They took turns pushing each other and falling. Sylvia's hands were hot and she had a honking laugh, but she laughed at both Petie and herself, which made her okay.
When Kitridge finally called an end to their practice, Petie felt tired and dizzy, and his thigh muscles were sore. But he was looking forward to the next class, more than when he'd started.
Prefect Kitridge showed them how to put their hands together over their chests and bow to the cardinal points before she dismissed them.
Petie grinned as he put back on his socks and shoes. This was going to be okay. He could do this.
Cai was also happy—the impression Petie had was that Cai wanted Petie to learn to fight. He was a bit uneasy with that, so Cai tumbled once, making Petie more dizzy but still giggling as he left the Warrior Room.
"Yeah, show us how it's done," came a harsh voice from behind.
Petie didn't fall and flow when the unexpected hard shove came from behind. Instead, he turned on his attacker, puffed up and ready to fight.
The pit of Petie's stomach felt like it was still tumbling, and his hands trembled in his fists, but he wasn't backing down. He'd done too well in class. He could do this, too.
Chris, startled, gave a squawk. He recovered quickly. "So you want to play, little boy?"
"No fighting."
Prefect Kitridge suddenly stood beside them, glaring at both of them.
"If I ever catch either of you—no, any of you fighting," she said with a pointed glare at Chris and Thomas, "there will be consequences."
Petie stood up straighter, ashamed that he'd let himself be drawn in. Why was Cai so ready to fight? It wasn't Petie, not really. Though honestly, it wasn't just Cai. Just the way he, they, felt.
"Getting your wings clipped hurts like hell," Kitridge told them. "And that's one of the consequences. Just one."
Petie didn't know what it meant to get his wings clipped, but it sounded like it would hurt.
"Learn control. No more fights."
Prefect Kitridge turned and walked back into the Warrior Room. Petie didn't look at the other boys still standing there, he just nodded and started down the hall, his arms wrapped over his chest.
They couldn't fight, him and Cai, but he had to protect himself, somehow, from those boys. He didn't have to look behind to know they still stared at him, that they were still out to get him in trouble.
Suddenly, warrior training didn't sound like as much fun.