TRINITY SAT ACROSS the fire from Gaar, the late afternoon sun warming her back. This was the first break that they’d taken since leaving the encampment that morning. Her muscles ached and her head pounded. They hadn’t even stopped to refill their water. She stretched, dreading the end of dinner for that would mean it was time to travel again and all she wanted was to curl up and sleep.

Gaar handed her a chunk of bread. Other than a little strain around his eyes, he looked fine. It wasn’t fair. She was beyond exhausted and unlike him, she’d been able to rest a bit when he’d carried her so that her scent trail would disappear. She broke off a small corner of the thick, hard, brown, lump of bread. Less than twenty-four hours ago she’d been eating her mom’s, moist, delicious apple-nut bread. She’d never have that again. Tears built up but she blinked them away. It did no good to think about her mother.

“After we eat, we’ll rest for a while.”

She sighed in relief. She was going to get to sleep.

“I’ll show you how to stay as safe as possible on the ground.” He picked up a stick and began whittling.

Off and on all day, he’d been pointing out forest facts and safety to her like he usually did but today, she’d been eager for the information. Before, she’d only half listened since she’d been planning on returning to camp. Now, the forest was her home and her survival depended on the knowledge she could absorb.

“If possible, you should sleep off the ground. It is always safer up high—”

“True, true, very true,” said a voice from above.

Gaar jumped up, moving in front of her and protecting her with his bulk. She crouched behind him, looking up into the tree. A small winged creature sat on a branch a few feet above them. It had large, black eyes and a bald head. Instead of a nose and mouth it had a beak in the middle of its face. Its body was the size of a loaf of bread and covered in brownish-gray feathers. The bird-man opened his beak in a grotesque imitation of a smile, his tongue wiggling inside.

“Shoo, shoo.” Gaar waved his arms at the creature.

“What is it?” She’d never seen a bird who could speak.

“An Avion,” answered Gaar.

“Oh.” That didn’t tell her anything.

“They usually don’t travel this far into the forest. It must want something.” Gaar sat down by the fire and twisted the knife in his hand, causing the sun to bounce off the shiny steel.

“Not want. I come to deliver a message.” The Avion studied her. “My name is Birchwood, but my friends call me Birdie. What’s your name?”

The Avion had an eager, friendly face and since Gaar was sitting he wasn’t worried so the creature must be harmless. “Hi. My friends call—”

“Avions are notorious gossips.” Gaar glared at her.

She bit back her words. She wasn’t an idiot. She wasn’t going to tell Birdie her real name.

“Not true. Not true,” said Birdie. “I know how to keep my beak shut. Not all of us do, of course, but that is like saying that all Handlers…wait, there are no other Handlers are there?”

Without looking, Gaar flung the knife at the Avion. She screamed at the same time that Birdie squawked, jumping out of the way. The knife landed with a thud in the tree trunk next to the little Avion’s head. A few feathers fluttered to the ground as Birdie readjusted his position on the branch.

“Not quite fast enough,” said Birdie.

“I didn’t really try,” muttered Gaar.

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“Of course you didn’t,” said Birdie. “Now, do you want my message or not?”

“Not,” said Gaar.

She looked from one to the other. Birdie seemed friendly enough but Gaar obviously didn’t care for the creature.

“Too bad. Miss Sarah asked this favor of me so I am going to do it,” said Birdie.

Gaar grabbed another hunk of bread and took a bite as he stared into the fire.

“It would be polite to offer me something to eat.” Birdie unfurled and then flapped his wings. His eyes were bright with anticipation and his little tongue waggled out of his beak.

He looked really hungry. When Gaar didn’t move she held out a small piece of bread. Birdie launched himself from the branch and fluttered in front of her hand until he was able to grab the food with his beak. He then flew back to the tree. He placed the bread under one foot and tore off tiny pieces with his mouth.

“Thanks,” he said when he was done. “You are very kind.”

“Just deliver your message and leave,” said Gaar.

Birdie fluffed up his feathers. “Well, as I said, Miss Sarah asked that I do her son a favor. I dislike Hugh, but I owe Miss Sarah. So, I was obligated to help. She saved me once, you know. A kind, kind—”

“Get on with it,” said Gaar.

She couldn’t help but smile at the chipper little creature. Plus, it was fun to see Gaar aggravated by someone other than herself.

“Oh, yes. Sorry. Your message. Hugh wants you to find and capture the escaped Producer. He wants you to come to his house to discuss the job.” Birdie paused, looking at her. “It shouldn’t be too hard for you to complete this task.”

“Gaar?” Birdie obviously knew she was a Producer, but who was Hugh?

“Don’t worry, Little One. I won’t turn you over to the Almighty,” said Gaar.

So, Hugh was an Almighty. Did he work for Benedictine?

“Well, now,” said Birdie. “You may want to reconsider. She’s a kind, young Producer. I’d hate to see her captured by the wrong group. Two Almighty’s want this one. Can you hide from both? If not, which one should get the prize? Hugh may not be my favorite but he is better than Benedictine.” Birdie shivered for effect.

Well, that answered that question. Hugh didn’t work for Benedictine. So, why did he want her?

“Shut up, Avion,” said Gaar.

“Well. My message is delivered.” Birdie huffed and spread his wings. Then he stopped and looked eagerly at the bread in her hand.

She held it out for him. He flew down and took it.

“Thanks again.” He sat in the tree and finished her food. “If I were you, Handler, I’d consider what I could get from this meeting. You’ll have to turn her over eventually. Get what you can and make sure she goes to the right one.” He paused. “I won’t mention seeing her with you. Miss Sarah did not ask that of me.” He nodded farewell and flew off.

Gaar climbed the tree and retrieved his knife. When he was back on the ground, he said, “Come. I’ll teach you about water dangers as we fill our bottles.”

She was following him to the river when he stopped suddenly. She drew her knife, scanning the area for danger.

“The Avion’s right. I don’t know if I can keep you safe.”

Fear skipped down her spine. The Almightys would kill and eat her. She couldn’t be less safe than that.

“Benedictine is one thing. He’s cruel but not smart. Hugh is intelligent and relentless. I need to meet with him or he’ll get suspicious.”

“Why would he get suspicious?” She sheathed her weapon.

He walked over to a rock near the water and sat. “We work for him, Little One. That’s why.”

“I don’t understand. You hate the Almightys.”

“I told you that I watched the Finishing Camp. It was on Hugh’s orders. Mirra’s not aware of this.”

Her throat tightened. She’d been in the hands of the Almightys this whole time. All it took was for the right one to ask and he’d hand her over. The bread sat heavy in her stomach. “What has all this training been then, a joke?” She fought back the tears. Troy had turned on her and it seemed so would Gaar, but she would not cry, not this time.

“No. No,” he said, truth in his dark gaze. “Believe me. I had no intention of turning you over to Benedictine.”

“But you will turn me over to Hugh.”

He stared past her at the river. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.” His eyes met hers. “I have to go and see him. Let him think that I’ll take the job.”

“When will you decide if you’re turning me over?” She couldn’t go back, not now that she knew what they did to her kind.

“I won’t do anything without discussing it with you and Mirra.”

The constriction around her chest eased. Mirra wouldn’t let her go.

“Plus, I don’t trust the Avion to keep his beak shut. He thinks I’ll owe him a favor if he doesn’t tell, but it will be too tempting to squawk about it. Especially, if we disappear.” He stood. “We need to head toward the Lake of Sins.”

“Are you going to leave me alone again?” She might get to see Jethro. She shouldn’t even want to since he was an Almighty and he ate meat, but she did. He’d been a true friend when he’d helped her escape the Guards. He may be willing to help her again if Gaar decided to turn her over to Hugh.

“Not this time. There are too many Guards looking for you.” He bent, filling up their bottles.

“Are you going to take me into the village with you?” She’d never seen a town or village besides her own.

“No. We’ll wait until Mirra finds us. Then you’ll go back to the Finishing Camp with her.”

She frowned. That didn’t sound like any fun at all.