Silverwing by Kenneth Oppel

down.”
    Shade laughed aloud with delight. “Hey! Hello!” he called out at the colony. “It’s me, Shade!”
    Three bats toward the rear banked and looked back. Shade swept over them eagerly with his echo vision. Yes, the wings were the right shape, the tails, the bodies a little large maybe, but …
    “No,” he breathed in disappointment as he drew closer. They were Graywings, luxuriously furred, with handsome sideburns on their faces. Even their ears were rimmed with gray fur, and the underside of their forearms too.
    “Where are you two headed?” one of them asked.
    “We’re looking for the Silverwing colony,” Shade said. “Have you seen them?”
    “We came in from the northwest. We saw a few other colonies, but not Silverwings. Which way were they headed?”
    “South down the coast, toward a city.”
    “Probably not far ahead of us, then. You get lost?”
    “Two nights ago, in a storm.”
    “Bad luck. Well, I don’t envy you, going into the city. It’s not a good place for bats. Look, we’re going around the city, but we’ll continue south after that. You’re free to come with us for a while, if you like.”
    He saw them all up ahead, mothers and fathers flying with their children, veering off quickly to catch food as they went. He glanced at Marina. It was tempting. Flying with a big group. Maybe it wasn’t so important to go into the city. Maybe they could stay on course without finding the tower.
    All at once the Graywing veered away from them, staring at Marina’s forearm.
    “She’s banded,” he hissed to Shade.
    “I know,” he said.
    “Are you out of your mind?” the Graywing said, circling from a distance. “It’s bad luck, very bad luck. She’s been touched by Humans. Didn’t your mother teach you anything? She’ll bring doom on all our heads.”
    “No,” Shade said, “it’s not—”
    “You’re welcome to travel with us, Silverwing—but not her.”
    Shade stared at the Graywing, at the colony of bats in the distance.
    “If she can’t come, I’m not coming either.”
    “Suit yourself. But I’d watch out for her if I were you.”
    The Graywings darted back to their colony, and then, on cue from their elder, swung inland, away from the water, away from them. Shade felt heavy with disappointment. His thoughts had leaped ahead of him, imagining his mother.
    “Sorry,” said Marina. “I forgot to cover the band. I thought they were yours.”
    “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I just don’t understand. Why do they think the bands are bad luck?” He looked at the silver ring around her forearm, and for the first time, felt a prick of uneasiness. “Something must have happened, more than just stories.”
    “Maybe you should’ve gone with them,” she said tersely.
    “That’s not what I mean.”
    “Nothing’s stopping you.”
    “I’m not leaving—”
    “You think I need your company? I’m used to living alone. I don’t need you or your colony, Shade.” She stared at him, her eyes hard, then looked away. “I’m … forget it.”
    “Maybe there’re different kinds of bands,” Shade said. “Good ones and bad ones.” His head ached, and his stomach felt queasy. “I don’t know.”
    “And which have I got? Guess I’ll know when I burst into flames.”
    Shade stared at her in alarm, and they both laughed, long and hard, until he felt the tears come to his eyes. But he still couldn’t shrug off his anxiety. If only they could reach his colony, and get some answers.
    “Sorry they weren’t your colony,” Marina said.
    “Yeah.”
    “We’ll catch up. That map of yours is doing the job.” Shade smiled gratefully. Ahead of them he could see a ghostly brightening on the horizon, as if the sun were about to rise. Only he knew this wasn’t the sun. “Here comes the city,” said Marina.

G OTH
    Tonight he would be free.
    Goth hung from a sinewy branch in the artificial jungle. It was hot here, but the heat didn’t come from the blazing tropical