The room was almost blindingly white, as if they had decided to make it as monotone as possible. For someone who loved snuggling into cosy places as much as Angel did, its barrenness was smothering. She had thought she was rid of the School, yet there she was, right back where she'd started.

Except worse off because, this time, she was alone.

The scientists didn't care about her outside her use as a research subject. Jeb alone seemed to want to keep her alive for her own sake, but even that could have just been a ploy to make her complacent. Not that they needed her cooperation in the first place; super strong bird kid or not, there was no way she was getting out of there on her own.

Her eyebrows furrowed in frustration. She was used to being able to read people's minds to work out how dangerous a situation was and how to respond to it. It was the ace up her sleeve, the one trick nobody knew she could do. Yet, somehow, Jeb was able to block her out. Was he doing it on purpose? Did it just not work on him? Either way, it made things that much harder for her. If she'd been able to read his mind, she would have known what sort of game he was playing. As it was, she had to rely solely on body language, and it had been so long since she'd had to do it that she didn't trust herself to get it right.

Max. Max, please hurry.

A string of images suddenly burst into her head. Max fighting. A small black dog yapping away. A large expanse of white snow. Another bird kid, about Max's age. The flock separating. The world burning. New enemies, hybrids she'd never seen before, swarming around them. And Fang –

With a sharp gasp, she clutched at her temples as she instinctively curled in on herself, leaning against the side of her cage for support. The ice cold bars pressed into her side, but she barely noticed. Her arms wrapped around her legs, and she enfolded herself in her beautiful white wings as though they were a cocoon. Her heart ached at the memory of the dreadful images. The flock had had more life-or-death experiences than the average family, but she'd never actually thought that one of them might die. She couldn't imagine life without them by her side; it just seemed too final, too foreign. But she couldn't deny what she had seen. How could those horrors happen?

And why? Why was she seeing those things? What did they mean?

Somehow, part of her knew that they were – or would be – real. Not right away, but someday soon, all of those things would come to pass. As unbelievable as it seemed, they weren't just moving pictures like at the movies; they were visions. Prophecies, even. The flock would separate, and the world would burn, and Fang would die.

Unless she could stop them. Perhaps she was seeing them so that she would be able to keep them from ever happening! Why else would they come to her? She had always known that she was special; she was strong and smart and could even read people's minds. If anyone could do it, she could. So why would she be able to see those things unless she was supposed to use the knowledge to change the future?

Once again, she wished she were with her family. She didn't want them to be caged either, but still… Even their mere presence would have been enough to comfort her. Scrunching her eyes shut, she let herself imagine that they were there with her, surrounding her. She could almost feel them, there yet not there, as if they were phantoms. Max, hugging her and babying her before turning with blazing eyes to wipe out anyone who stood in their way. Fang, standing between her and the bad guys to keep them from touching her ever again. Iggy, poising for attack, ready to jump into action at the first hint of movement. Nudge, babbling nervously away but always on the lookout. Gazzy, his mind whirring away as he looked for materials to fashion into a makeshift bomb.

Loneliness hit her afresh, and she whimpered. She could fantasise all she wanted, but the fact remained that she was alone.

Sighing, she tried to tap into Max's mind to see where the others were and how they were going. She didn't know enough about where she was to be able to lead the others to her, but even just a brief conversation would have been something. But, try as she might, she wasn't able to get through to the older girl's mind. Terror rushed through her at the thought that Max might have died, and her wings flexed around her small body in fear.

No, she thought. If those images were indeed visions, then Max wasn't going to die for a long time yet. Surely the flock was just out of range. Angel had never tried reading minds from a distance before, so she didn't know if she had to be able to see the person for it to work. It was much more likely that she just couldn't reach that far.

Instead, her thoughts returned to the visions. She didn't know if she was meant to make sure they didn't happen or ensure that they did, but they were there or a reason. And she was supposed to do somethingabout it. The problem was that Max would never agree to follow her lead. She would believe Angel, but she would insist on going about things her own way. The fifteen-year-old's mulishness had kept them alive over the years, but it would also keep her from ever agreeing to pass leadership over to someone else. Especially when that person was Angel, whom Max saw as the baby of the family.

That just meant that the six-year-old would have to find another way to get Max to listen to her.

Well, she thought with no small amount of bitterness, I have lots of time to work something out.