Disclaimer: I don't own Animorphs or anything related.

A/N: SouthernBelle –thanks for the comment! You raised a couple of points I hadn't really thought of, and I'll try to work the answers into the story.

Chapter Twelve.

I stared down at Inest, gritted my teeth, and tried to shut off my hearing. Unsuccessfully. I winced as her cry of pain went through my head.

Wait, that's not quite the start. But it was important. To everyone.

It hadn't seemed like much at first. She'd been complaining of pain under her skin a while after she'd woken up. Nothing much. Just sore muscles, we all thought –she slept out on the ground a lot. But then it got worse.

It was now midmorning, and Inest was crying out with pain, hurling her canine-human head back and grasping desperately at the hand of the Pemalite standing next to her.

She was sick. Everyone knew she was sick. But it was a kind of sickness I'd never seen before –something that seemed to have no symptoms but the constant, wracking pain.

It nagged at me.

It nagged at everyone. I could tell. As much as any human can read Pemalite facial expressions, I can read theirs, and…well, they were about as disturbed as Pemalites get. The healers had run test after test, trying to find the disease. So far, no results.

And that's why I was now sitting there gritting my teeth, trying to block out the howling shrieks Inest let out with every painful spasm.

"There has to be someone who can help," I whispered.

A healer crouched down beside Inest and injected something into her arm. A minute later, her shrieks quietened.

"You've fixed it?" I asked. I guessed I sounded more hopeful than I should have.

The healer shook his head. "It's a painkiller. She can't feel anything, but…it won't last forever…"

Inest smiled weakly. She said something in the strange Pemalite language that I didn't understand.

No way out. No way out. No way out…

I suddenly couldn't bear to be there any more. I got up, backed away, and ran. I ran up the slope, to the top of the mountain. I hunkered down in the soft earth.

And I began to change.

It was a life-or-death situation. I'd like to say that I wouldn't have done it if it hadn't been a life-or-death situation –and yeah, the whole messy issue was why I panicked enough to try. The whole situation was what I wanted to get away from. But I didn't feel good about it.

I shrank. From five feet to three. To two. To one and a half. Feather patterns rose on my skin and became three-dimensional. My feet and legs became scaly. My arms shifted backwards and flattened into wings. My breastbone deepened, forming a kind of keel to which my wing muscles attached.

Finally, my vision went laser-sharp, allowing me to spot fish beneath the water.

I spread my wings and flapped, rising slowly off the ground until I caught a headwind and was carried along, gaining altitude more rapidly. I circled around over the site.

From up here, with these eyes, I could see so clearly. I could see…everything.

Everything.

I'd delayed my search for too long. Surely the site would be fine without me for an hour or so. What were the chances of the Yeerks attacking in the few moments I wasn't there?

I flew higher and higher, soaring on a thermal. I was alone up here. It was me and the sky. The world and all its concerns were a long way away.

It was strange to be flying alone. Strange, to be in the sky with no other birds of prey swooping and hovering around me. Strange, to see no hawk, no eagle, no falcon.

My heart wrenched.

I flew higher, higher. And then I stopped stretching for altitude, and began to turn height into distance. See, when you're high up, you can kind of surf down through the air in any direction, using gravity and air resistance to get you the speed and distance you want. It's very fast, and very easy, and it costs you less in terms of strength.

I had a vague idea of the direction I'd come to get here. That meant I had a vague idea of where the city ought to be, although I had no clue how far away it was. For now, though, all I had to do was find it. This isn't all that difficult, when you're a bird.

I found the town.

For a while –probably far too long –I debated flying down and finding my friends. But all the crazy things that had kept me away were running through my head. I knew I had to order my thoughts, to be able to explain myself.

I knew all that.

I found the school, flew down, and landed in a tree outside. I stared through a window. There was a lesson on science in progress. The teacher was talking about the blood system.

Someone sitting there. Third from the front, fourth along. Biting her lip. Her golden hair messy, not groomed to its usual perfection.

Rachel.

Rachel.

Oh, I missed her.

I swear, if I could have cried right then, I would have. I almost flew in through the window.

Instead, I spoke to her.

<Rachel, > I said in private thought-speech.

Her head came up sharply, and her eyes widened.

<It's me, > I said simply.