I crowed for a long time when the night sleep left. Not just because I was happy I’d made it to morning in the worst spot possible, but because I wanted to hear if anybody else would join in.

No sound came back to me but the wind smoothing across the tall grass. If Johnny and Thrasher had survived the night, their crows were too far away for me to hear.

I needed to get back, to find Moonsinger and tell her how her song had kept me safe. Maybe I could do something for her, like find that knife me and Trashhead had been fighting over and give it to her. Surely she would have the sense to keep it hidden from him. Then it would be like I was protecting her when I wasn’t around. A girl angel that small could use all the protection she could get.

But the only thing I could see in any direction was those cliffs, straight up and down at the edge of the world. From the top of one of those, I ought to be able to get up high enough to see my way back home.

I didn’t mess around this time. Walking was too slow. I still had a ways to go, so I took off at a run, then snapped open my wings. The warm air coming off the grass lifted me up. I let it. I didn’t see any dangerous shapes flying overhead, but if I did, I could dive down into the tall grass.

It was the most beautiful feeling to fly out in the open. No branches or trunks to avoid. I could glide in a perfect straight line forever. I shut my eyes for long times and felt the wind and the sun rushing past. They ruffled and warmed my hair and feathers at the same time. I only looked around me now and then to make sure there were no monsters flying overhead or following me on the ground.

The forest of cliffs got closer and closer. They were darker than the cliffs back in my woods. A dark gray. And straighter. Not just sheer, but straight up and down, and bits of them glared and sparkled in the sunlight.

The sun was just past its highest perch of the day when the tall grass ran out below me. In its place was a shore of black sand, but I didn’t see any creek running alongside it. I angled my wings and glided down.

The sand didn’t shift and move when I landed. It was solid as dried mud, and it burned my feet. The black had taken in the sunlight and stored it, the same way my black feathers did.

I ran a few steps and took off again. I needed to get into the shadow of the cliffs, where the ground would be cool. Heat shimmered and rose from that black beach, easily lifting me up.

When I made it to the closest cliff, I saw those things that had been sparkling in the sunlight. They were squares of clear stone. In one, I saw my reflection and behind that, a guy angel with white feathers and a soft poof of yellow hair.

“Hey.” I whipped my wings, turning myself around to meet him.

But I was flying alone.

I turned back.

He was frowning at me from the clear stone. His lips moved, but I couldn’t hear him.

I reached out and touched his face. It was stone. Flat, not in the shape of the face I could see.

I hung there flapping, trying to figure him out. He stood in the clear stone of the cliff, trying to figure me out.

This guy didn’t look like the angels I’d seen before. His pants were long, and he was wearing a shirt. I had only seen ladies wear shirts.

His body was shaped different than mine or Johnny’s or even Thrasher’s. Wide and soft-looking. Before, Moose had been the fattest angel I’d ever seen. His belly had hung over his shorts a little, but that belly had been hard as a rock, and his arms and chest had been all stringy muscle.

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This guy was wide all the way around, and all of it looked soft, like puff flowers before you squeeze the fluffy seeds out and watch them float away in the wind.

There was something else about him. He was too clean. There was no mud on his feathers or burrs in his hair or clothes.

And he had shoes on his feet. How was he supposed to use his ankle spurs? Moonie was the only angel I’d ever known who wore shoes, and just because she liked how they looked. They weren’t good for anything real.

He pulled a plastic square out of his pants pocket. I’d seen tons of those in god drops. They were more useless than shoes. This one, he held to his face and started silently talking again.

I was getting annoyed with not knowing what he was saying, plus my wings were tired. I didn’t usually fly so long in one day. I banked and circled back until I made it to the bottom in the shade of the cliff face. There, the black sand was warm but not hot enough to burn my feet.

“Watch where you’re landing!” a thick girl angel snapped at me, then strutted off, swishing her long blue skirt and shaking out her white wings in irritation.

Now that I was down on the ground and looking, I could see white wings everywhere. Every angel around this forest of cliffs had wings as white as new snow during the killing cold. They all had shoes on, and even the male angels wore shirts. Lots of them were looking down at plastic squares in their hands or holding them to their faces and talking. A few scowled my way, wrinkling up their noses, without slowing down.

I backed up until my wings were pressed against the stone. There were so many angels in just that small space around the cliff that it made my skin crawl. How many of the guys were like Thrasher and wanted to take a piece out of my hide for no reason?

And the noise. It was like a rain of talking. Everybody’s words were falling out at once. I couldn’t see how they could understand each other, or if they were even trying to.

“Oh, hello.”

A girl angel had stopped beside me.

She was smiling at me, not wrinkling up her nose in disgust. Her eyes were the warm dark brown color of the ground under dead leaves, and her feathers were that bright, perfect white. Long white hair waved down around her round shoulders and huge breasts. She wore one of those sundresses like Moonie had found in the last god drop, but it clung to the swell of her chest and her wide, curvy hips instead of hanging like moss on a stick.

This girl looked so soft. Like if I put my hand on her, it would sink in. All the ladies I knew back home were wiry and sharp. Even their hair looked tougher than hers. Their feathers were made for blending into the underbrush. Hers glowed in the sunlight.

“Um, I said hello.”

“To me?” I couldn’t believe that.

She giggled. “Yes.”

“H-hi.”

“Hi.” Her skin was as pale as everybody else in this place, but red splotches were growing in her cheeks.

“Are you too hot?”

“No.” She tucked some of that wavy white hair behind her ear. Then she shrugged. “Well, maybe. It is hot outside today.”

“You should open your wings,” I said. “You get more breeze that way.”

She looked around at the other angels, then lifted her wings a little.

“Like this.” I stretched my wings up and out to their full span. I was overheating, too, but not from the weather.

The air slipped between my feathers, but didn’t do much to cool me down. I’ve got pretty impressive feathers, though, especially when they catch the light, so I didn’t fold my wings back in yet.

“I’m Angelpunk.”

She looked at my wings, then ducked her head a little, the flush in her cheeks darkening.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Angelpunk. My name is Cherie.”

“Do you want to see my mating dance?”

She cocked her head. “Mating dance?”

“It’s like…” I tried to think of a way to explain something everybody already knew. At least, I’d thought everybody knew what it was. “It’s when a male sort of spreads his wings and shuffles and stomps around a female to so she’ll know how—”

She laughed hard that time and reached for my face. Her hand felt even softer than it looked when it covered my mouth. Softer than down feathers. As soft as sunny-day clouds.

“I know what a mating dance is,” she said. “I didn’t realize anyone did them in real life. I thought they were just on the ][][] and in ][][.”

I blinked. I wanted to ask her what those words were that she’d said, but I also didn’t want her to take her hand off me.

I snuck my tongue out from between my lips and licked her palm.

With a yipe and another laugh, she yanked her hand back. She held it in a fist against her round tummy.

“A guy has never done a mating dance for you?” I asked.

She shook her head.

“You’ve never seen one at all?”

The red spread down around her chin and up to her forehead.

“I mean, I’ve watched ][][. Everybody has, haven’t they?” She shrugged. She looked up at me. Her brown eyes were so dark under those long, white lashes. I couldn’t get enough of them. “But I’d like to see one in real life. I’d like to see yours.”