Uncle looked at Sylvie without any expression. “We can talk about that for a bit when we get back, but there are complications.”

Sylvie began to rage inside, “Complications? This is my right! Dad, Mom, and my sister are gone. I want something that connects me to the history of my family!” she shouted through angry tears.

Martin was agitated by her outburst. He had never seen her this upset. She was always the strong, resilient planner of their fugitive crew in the abandoned building where they had squatted. “Sylvie, I’m sure there are good reasons for holding off. Why not hear him out? He has to have a good reason,” he pleaded. His own heart was beating hard as he heard the hurt in her voice.

A sadness passed over the older man’s face as he said, “I gave my word to keep you out of this if I could.”

“Who? Who could you possibly think has a right to keep me from this?” she growled out to Uncle as the rage on her face made her grimace as she tried to stem the tears.

“Your father asked me. He wanted you to have as normal a life as you could. He wanted you safe and not forced into a long and bitter war that may never end. I have buried too many children of this family because of this war.” The sorrow in his eyes was enough to quiet Sylvie. “That feather belonged to your father. He refused to take it and left. He was eighteen and had just been to a funeral for his own parents. I gave him all of the help I could and got him to a safe place in America. When you were born, he called me on HAM radio. It was the first time I heard from him in years. He asked me to keep you and your sister out of this war.”

Martin was the next to speak up, “Excuse me, Uncle, We are in this war no matter what we do. We are being hunted. If the feather is like the one in the legend, it may be the key to our survival.”

Sylvie’s face was red with fury, “So, who is going to fight this war? Have you just given up? You’re just going to hide in a hole in the ground? You do see that they are abducting children, right?”

“We are fighting one battle at a time. I don’t think of the war. That picture is too big,” he replied sadly.

“That is why I want to be in the big picture. Those kids I lived with are FAMILY! I want to get them back from the people who took them from me. Then, I want to find everyone else who has been taken and give them freedom and a home. We all know this place was not built for three people.” Sylvie was on a roll now. “We also all know that you two getting chased in New York was not a coincidence. They are after us, all of us. I want us to have every weapon we can to fight and survive. My father would agree. He always said that not fighting is a good way to lose to a bully.”

“I know that saying, because I told it to your father. I will think about what to do,” Uncle responded with a sigh.

Martin looked up at the older man and started speaking with an intensity Sylvie had not seen in him before. “Her father didn’t say anything about keeping me out of this. Does this mean I can volunteer for this war? I think I’m already in it.”

“Boy, you do NOT know the problems you are asking for. Besides, if there is no feather, you do not get to accept one. You two are getting ahead of yourselves. If a feather shows up, an alarm will ring. Then, and only then, you, not Sylvie, can accept it. Are we agreed?”

At this point, a quiet bell began to ring through the halls. Uncle’s face drew into a frown as the bell repeated a pattern of three rings before pausing briefly and beginning again. He said a word under his breath. Neither of them could tell what the word was, but the tone was of a curse word fervently delivered.

Looking directly at each other, Sylvie and Martin both loudly chorused, “I accept the gifts of the Thunderbird!”

A silver feather fell from above Martin as if out of thin air to land in his outstretched hand. This did not shock Uncle, but he was astonished when two fell from above Sylvie, each on landing in one of her outstretched hands.