Xeke took a deep breath and savored the clean smell of morning. It was good to be out of the truck. They hadn’t seen anything since the helicopter the previous afternoon, and everyone needed a break.

  “This is beautiful country,” Xeke said.

  Ruddy looked around. “Just looks like more desert to me.”

  They’d hiked to a little hill about a quarter mile from the highway. There was nothing in sight but clouds and birds.

  “Reminds me of Tremors,” Ruddy said.

  “What tremors?” Xeke said.

  “No. The movie … with Kevin Bacon.”

  Xeke caught an image of a giant worm bursting from the ground and devouring the Jeep.

  “This …” Xeke swept his arm around. “Reminds you of a movie? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

  “Eh. I watched a lot of TV growing up,” Ruddy said.

  Xeke’s voice took on a deep tone. “‘I will set no wicked thing before mine eyes.’ One of my dad’s favorite verses. He wasn’t a big fan of television.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “My dad didn’t really care what I did as long as I was out of his way,” Ruddy said.

  The reds and yellows of the morning sky faded to blue as the sun rose above the horizon.

  I guess you’re right, Ruddy said. This is way better than a movie. Teri, are you sure you won’t come up? You should see this.

  I can see it fine from here. In fact ... would you like to see it from the point of view of a coyote?

  Yes! Xeke thought. As soon as he did, his perspective changed.

  It wasn’t a beautiful sunrise anymore. It was a scary time. Time to hide. Time for shade.

  Thinking about the sun made him thirsty. He panted and sank deeper into the scrub brush.

  Wow, Ruddy said. This is amazing.

  Teri let Xeke see through Ruddy’s eyes. It was like he was a child watching a sunrise for the very first time.

  In that moment Xeke understood what Cymber saw in Ruddy.

  I’d like to see it from that hawk overhead, Xeke said.

  He was flying. At first he thought he might fall, then the hawk’s perspective took over.

  He’s waiting for the good thermals, Teri said. Xeke gained altitude, then leveled off again. They come with the sun. He doesn’t think of them as heat columns, though. To him they’re like escalators. He just sits on top of them and goes up—never has to flap his wings. Then he glides to the next one and rides it up, and the next, and the next. He gets great gas mileage that way.

  Xeke winged through the sky as the sun rose. The desert stretched out below him, inching by as he flew, and the rush of wind flowed through his feathers. He could feel Ruddy and Teri’s contentment as they flew with him.