Firewing by Kenneth Oppel

glad you came,” she whispered into his neck.
    Finally he pulled back. “Your wing.”
    “I’m not sure. It doesn’t feel too good. The earthquake snapped the branch and I was in it. I got knocked around a bit before I got clear.”
    He cast a tender wash of sound over her wing, and could see the swelling in her forearm, though he didn’t make out any obvious fractures. He was hopeful it was just a sprain, but knew she wouldn’t be able to fly for a while.
    “Is the pain bad?” he asked.
    She shook her head impatiently. “I don’t know where Griffin is. I asked Penumbra to find him, but she hasn’t come back yet.”
    “He’s probably still out hunting,” Shade said, not wanting to worry her—but he felt drenched with worry. She hadn’t seen what it was like out there, trees mangled, the earth wrenched up. If Griffin had been out there, Shade could only hope his son was aloft when the quake hit.
    “He was upset, Shade. He flew off somewhere to be alone, I think.”
    “Why?”
    Her face was pinched. “There was a terrible accident.”
    “Not with Griffin,” he blurted instinctively.
    “Griffin’s okay. It was his friend, Luna. One of the other newborns. They stole some fire from the Humans.”
    He listened in growing horror as she told him all that had happened.
    “How’s Luna now?”
    “Not good. We tended to her burns but …” She shook her head. “And the whole time …” She lowered her voice as if ashamed. “Over and over again I kept thinking, I’m so glad it wasn’t Griffin. So glad.”
    She started to cry, and Shade nuzzled her tenderly, trying to hold his own tears at bay.
    “I think he did it to impress you,” Marina said.
    “Impress me?” he said, startled.
    “I should’ve known it would happen. They all tell stories about you, the things you did and—He’s not like you, Shade. He hangs back, he worries about things. He was probably afraid you wouldn’t like him unless he did something clever and heroic.”
    Shade didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t even met his son, and it seemed he’d already made him unhappy, forced him into doing something foolish and dangerous that might cost a newborn her life.
    Penumbra fluttered towards them, her face grave. “I’m sorry, Marina, we haven’t seen him yet. But there are still plenty of newborns outside. We’re still looking.”
    “I’ll look, too,” Shade reassured Marina. He put his head close to hers. “Tell me what he looks like.”
    He listened carefully as she sang an echo picture into his ears, and watched as his son appeared before his mind’s eye, etched in silver. It was the first time he’d beheld his son, and Shade’s heart swelled. He didn’t know if Griffin strongly resembled eitherMarina or himself, but looking at him, he felt an overwhelming sense of familiarity. This small creature belonged to him.
    “Where did you last see him?” he asked.
    “The healer’s roost. He flew off before I could stop him, and when I went after him he’d already disappeared. I thought maybe he needed to be alone.” She shifted anxiously, wincing at the pain it caused her wing. “I should’ve gone after him.”
    “It’s okay. I’m going to find him.” When he saw her confusion, he added, “I’m going to listen for him.”
    Shade knew he could waste hours flapping around, looking. The best way would be to track him with sound. Long ago, Zephyr, the Keeper of the Spire, had told him that you could hear noises from the past, and even the future, if your hearing was sharp enough. Shade had never had any success listening to the future, but he’d found if he concentrated enough, he could
hear
the echoes of things that had already happened—though how far back, he didn’t really know.
    He stroked Marina one last time and flew for the healer’s roost near the summit of Tree Haven. At the entrance he faltered when he saw the wounded newborn, so still, tended by her mother.
    “How is she?” Shade asked.
    “I don’t