Jasper Jaquin had followed the trail for three days, and the trail did not exist. No paw prints pressed the moss. No scent clung to the bark. Only a shimmer in the high leaves marked where the sky serpent had passed. Jasper was a jaguar with gold fur and black spots, and folded on his back were two black feather wings he had never opened. He wanted to open them beside Quetzalcoatl. First he had to find where Quetzalcoatl landed. He pushed through the mangroves at dusk. His nose worked the air and found nothing useful. He knew how to track a tapir through mud. He did not know how to track a thing that flew without weight. High in the twisted roots above him, a lantern flickered on. A wooden house sat wedged in the branches, its shingles patched, its porch strung with rope. A red-feathered parrot in a green robe leaned over the railing. "You've circled this grove four times," the parrot said. "You're wearing a path where there wasn't one." Jasper sat back on his haunches. "I'm looking for the temple. The one Quetzalcoatl uses." He kept his wings folded tight. Saying it out loud felt like admitting he could not do it alone. "I can track anything on the ground. I can't track him." The parrot climbed down a rope ladder and dropped onto a root beside him. Up close Jasper saw a gold pendant at the bird's throat and a wooden charm at the belt. "I'm Swiftflight," the parrot said. "I've seen the temple. You won't find it by nose. You'll find it by light." Swiftflight pointed a wing at a clump of tall grass where fireflies pulsed in slow waves. "They drift toward it at full dark. Follow the drift, not the bugs. The drift." Jasper watched the fireflies. At first they scattered. Then, as the sun dropped, the glow leaned. The whole cluster tilted east, like grass under a slow current. Jasper rose and followed. Swiftflight walked at his shoulder. They passed an old stone shrine choked in vines, its doorway dark, its carvings worn smooth. "Not that one," Swiftflight said. "That one's empty. Keep going." They walked until the trees thinned. Beyond the last mangrove, a stepped pyramid rose out of the jungle floor. Painted bands ran along its terraces. A stairway climbed to a platform at the top, and on the platform a long shape coiled. Silver scales. Red crest. Wings half-open, catching the last light. Jasper's chest tightened. He had found the landing place. His wings were still folded on his back, and he had never used them, and the creature he wanted to fly beside was waiting three hundred steps above him.

Jasper climbed the pyramid one step at a time. His claws found each worn edge. The sky serpent watched him from the platform, silver coils bright against the stone. When Jasper reached the top, his wings were still folded flat against his back. He had never opened them. He did not know how. "So you're ready to learn to fly," the serpent said. Jasper nodded slowly. "I've taught all the flying animals in the bayou." He said it before he thought about it. It was true. He had shown a winged green snake how to catch a thermal above the mangroves. He had watched dragonflies lift off his paw. He knew what flight looked like from the ground. The serpent's yellow eyes did not move. "You have watched flight. That is not the same." A shadow crossed the platform. A blue macaw landed on the far edge, small and alone, sandals scuffing stone. Behind him came the red macaw in the green robe, wings tucked, pendant swinging. "Azure has come to learn as well," the serpent said. "You will learn together." Azure looked at Jasper's folded wings. "You've never opened them." It was not a question. "No," Jasper said. "Then start there." Azure spread his own wings, blue against the sky. "Feel the joint. Push out. Don't think about lifting yet." Jasper tried. The wings on his back twitched. He pushed. Black feathers cracked open behind him for the first time. They were heavier than he expected. They pulled at muscles he had never used. He staggered sideways on the stone. The red macaw stepped closer and steadied him with one wing. "Being sure you know a thing is not the same as knowing it," the macaw said. "I mistake the two often. Watch for it in yourself." Quetzalcoatl lifted from the platform, slow, and hung in the air above them. "Today you open them. That is all. Tomorrow you jump." He looked at Jasper. "You came here believing you already understood. You do not. That is your first lesson, and you have learned it. Come back at dawn." The serpent turned in the air and slid away over the trees, leaving no mark on the sky. Jasper stood on the platform with his wings half-open and shaking. Azure folded his own wings neatly and sat down beside him. The red macaw watched the horizon where the serpent had gone. Jasper's shoulders burned. He could not fold the wings back. He did not know how to close them either.

The sun dropped behind the trees. Jasper's wings still hung half-open, shaking. The red macaw folded them for him with careful hands, one joint at a time, and showed him how the feathers locked back against his spine. Jasper's shoulders ached down to the bone. He could not have climbed back down the pyramid if he tried. The sky serpent slid back over the platform without warning. "You sleep inside tonight," he said. "Both of you. Dawn comes early." He nodded toward the dark doorway at the top of the pyramid. A cool draft came out of it, smelling of old stone. Azure walked in first. Jasper followed, wings tight against his back. Inside, the room was small and square, the floor swept clean. A shallow bowl of water sat by the wall. Jasper lay down on the stone and closed his eyes. Azure settled across from him, beak tucked, sandals off. Before Jasper drifted, he heard the serpent speak again outside. "Sora. Watch the door until dawn. No one comes in. They do not come out until I call." Another voice answered, low and even. Jasper opened one eye. A second winged jaguar stood at the doorway. Gold fur, blue spots, gold wings folded high on his shoulders. He was bigger than Jasper. He sat down across the entrance like a gate and looked in. His eyes passed over Jasper's black feathers and stopped. "You have wings like mine," Sora said. His voice was flat, not unkind. "You do not know how to use them." "No," Jasper said. "I did not either." Sora looked out at the dark trees. "He taught me. He will teach you. Sleep. You will need it." He did not turn his head again. Jasper watched him a while, the shape of another cat with wings, sitting still on stone. The red macaw walked past Sora with a nod and stepped out onto the platform to keep his own watch. Jasper heard him settle at the edge, plain and quiet. Jasper closed his eyes. His shoulders burned. Tomorrow he would jump. He did not know if the wings would open on their own, or catch air, or fold wrong and drop him. But another jaguar with wings sat at the door, awake, and had once been where Jasper was now. Jasper slept.