Author's Notes—the comments I have received since this story went up have all been nothing short of spectacular.  I have enjoyed reading each and every one, as well as talk to many of you.  I am both honored and pleased to see so many positive responses.  Now that the semester has ended for me, look for more stories involving Hawkgirl later this summer.  And later on in this story, keep a hawk's eye out for an avian cameo…

                Byth had given up hiding in the ship—Shayera kept too close an eye on it—and the surrounding farmland.  It was too risky.  Besides, he liked the city better.  Midway reminded him of the capital of Thanagar, Thalrassa.  It was a massive metropolis, full of wealth and material treasures.  There was a heavy scent of industrial work.  Byth felt at home.

                But for now he was just try to stay dry.  Byth had collected several new DNA samples.  He was now in a rat's body, gnawing his teeth on top of a garbage can.  I like this body almost as much as the bird's body.  So devilishly hungry and selfish…reminds me of myself.

                Byth had forced himself to forget the horror he felt after killing the two humans.  He focused on the thrill afterwards—for the first time in a long time, he had gotten away with a crime.  And what a crime!  The police of Thanagar had caught him for petty things like stealing or narcotics.  But Shayera had failed to catch him for the worse crime ever—murder!  What else could he get away with?

                There was a loud cry above the alley.  Byth's rat instinct took over and he dove for cover.  It was a hawk, circling over the area, looking for a small bird or mammal to eat.  Byth hissed at bird.  Damn you and your kind, Hawkgirl.  Byth realized he was not completely free yet.  So long as Hawkgirl was here in Midway and alive, she would hunt him down.  Byth knew Shayera was stupid like that.  She would chase him like some hound until he was dead from her mace.  Or if she dropped dead from exhaustion.  That's what I need to do next.  Kill Shayera Hol.  No, kill Hawkgirl.  Then no one would chase him.

*              *              *

                Jordan had escorted Hawkgirl to the Midway General Hospital.  Once inside Emmett's room, she removed her mask.  Emmett was in a bed, tubes running in and out of his body, with a monitor constantly beeping in the background.  "So…he's not dead?"

                Jordan shook his head.  "It's called a coma.  There's still brain activity.  He might wake up.  We don't know yet."

                Shayera bent down and placed her hand on Emmett's left check.  It felt cool to the touch.  She had never seen anyone in so deep a state of unconsciousness—and that scared her.  "The last thing I said to him…"

                "Don't worry about it."

                "…I said 'if he doesn't kill you first.'  I did say that, didn't I?"

                Jordan wasn't entirely sure what to say.  The last few days had been quite out-of-the-world to him.  "We say a lot of things we wish we could take back.  Like me.  I told Emmett letting you help this city was a bad idea."  Shayera turned her head towards Jordan.  "Now…I still think it's a bad idea, but I'm not so sure I'm right.  It's the first time I've doubted myself in a while."

                "I'm starting to doubt myself too."  Now it was Jordan's turn to be surprised.  "I thought I had everything under control.  I'd catch Byth, get back to Thanagar, and go home to my…friends.  Now, I'm not so sure."

                "Is that why you left the station yesterday?"

                Shayera nodded.  "Emmett was right.  There's no way to contact Thanagar.  My people know I'm missing, but they have no idea where to look."  Shayera began to choke up.  "And for the first time, I'm alone."

                "Not true.  The entire Police Force of Midway is right behind you."

                Shayera shook her head.  Then she lifted her wings.  "See these?  That's why I'll always be alone."  There was a silence.  Shayera looked outside.  The evening sun was setting.  "It's getting dark…its harder for me to fly at night.  I'm going to head to the Aviary before it gets any later."

                "The what?"

                "The Aviary.  It's my nickname for the attics of the Museum of History."

                Shayera put her mask back on and headed to the window.  She unlocked the hatch and balanced herself on the windowsill.  "Hawkgirl!"  She turned her head back.  Jordan was looking at his chief.  "What are you going to do…what can any of us do…"

                Hawkgirl's voice was unwavering.  "Byth's killed two humans and shot at your commissioner.  I can't leave him out there.  I'd be flying out there now chasing him but I'm aching to the bones.  Tomorrow though, the winds will be in my favor."

                Jordan stopped her once more before she took off.  "One last thing!  Emmett's the greatest commissioner this city has ever had.  And now Byth's knocked him down.  Go ahead and dispense your 'Thanagarian Justice' on that scumbag."

                Hawkgirl grinned.

*              *              *

                Mavis Trent was just finishing the work in her office and was leaving the museum when she heard a faint rustling behind and above her.  She spun around, not sure what to expect.  Hawkgirl was perched on a column, looking down at the curator.  "Whew, Hawkgirl, you gave me a scare."

                "Sorry.  I just wanted to let you know I was here."

                Trent smiled.  "You don't have to report to me, Hawkgirl."

                "I see.  But I do have a question."

                "Alright, go ahead."

                Hawkgirl looked up, trying to find the proper wording.  "Do you mind if I have a few birds in the attics?  I—they—"

                Trent laughed and adjusted her glasses.  "Just a few?  That doesn't seem unreasonable.  Go ahead.  Just make sure they stay invisible to the museum guests, of course."

                Hawkgirl nodded.  "Yes, of course.  Thank you."

                Trent headed to the parking lot and left Hawkgirl alone in the museum.  She pulled off her mask.  Using the last bit of energy in her wings, she glided to a small opening high in the main lobby of the museum.  Below her, the battle armor of fifteenth-century knights collected dust and old war banners waved from a faint breeze.  The museum had been losing money for the past ten years.  But the day after the newspaper article mentioning Hawkgirl's new HQ, the number of guests had quadrupled.  Shayera could see rows of ancient weapons in the lobby.  "A pity these humans don't admire their own history—I'm already admiring theirs."

                After a few turns in the dark, Hawkgirl lifted a trapdoor above her and pulled herself up into the Aviary.

                Trent wasn't kidding when she offered the attic space for Hawkgirl.  Most of it was made of crossbeams and rafters.  There was a clear section in the center, with another trapdoor leading to the museum roof.

                Shayera's living arrangements were Spartan.  Her only possessions were the hammock in one corner, a small lamp, and her backpack full of Thanagarian supplies.  Emmett mentioned something about a television set—whatever that was—and a refrigerator for her food.  Until then though…Shayera would have to make do without any luxuries.

                As Shayera walked through the cross beams and her feathers rubbed against the planks, should could hear and feel the presence of dozens of birds.  They were all different types.  Massive flocks of sparrows that had divided into smaller groups of fours and fives darted here and there looking for a possible meal.  Blue jays and starlings bickered at each other for the same space.  Mourning doves and their kin, the pigeons, watched from higher rafters as their mistress walked amongst them.  And at the top rafters closest to the roof, several owls flew out for a night's hunting, while pairs of eagles, falcons, and hawks returned from their day's labors.

                It was these sights that Shayera saw last before drifting into unconsciousness.  Her eyelids grew heavy and her wings went limp and she swung softly in her bed.  Just a few birds…