Taken (Erin Bowman)

It’s his stamina. I worry he’ll never be quite the same. He puts on his best big brother face and tells me to be careful. Even though it is a vow larger than life, I promise him I’ll keep myself in one piece.
    I head outside and wait for the group in the cemetery. There is a new headstone in the forefront, carved with Harvey’s name even though the Rebels had no body to bury beneath it. I stop beside it and watch my breath smoke through the late November air. A black crow joins me and takes to pecking at the stone.
    “Go on. Get.” I swat at the bird. He caws at me viciously, black feathers gleaming in the white landscape. Footsteps approach, and annoyed by them, the bird flies off.
    “You ready?” Emma asks. She wears a thick coat and is loaded up with gear, our medic for the journey.
    I nod.
    “I hope we can put things right on this mission, Gray,” she says simply, her dark eyes darting between me and her palms. “I don’t like when we are like this, so distant.”
    “Me neither,” I confess. I should say a million other things, but I can’t find the words.
    “It’s a long trip,” she adds. “Maybe we could talk a little.”
    “Yeah. We should.”
    She smiles and it is the first one I’ve ever been able to truly read. Her lips are wistful, pinched to one side and upturned, full of promise. It makes me hopeful, which is the clearest emotion I’ve felt in weeks.
    I hear voices and turn my attention to the rest of the team that is appearing behind her. My father is first—he’ll be heading up the expedition—along with Xavier, Bo, and even Clipper, who will be our technical edge. Bo looks surprisingly ready. After several weeks of conditioning he has abandoned his usual hunched-over state for a limber, upright one. This alone made Blaine furious, but of course, Bo was never in a coma. A few other faces join us, additional team members. The rest of the captains are staying behind. There will be scouting missions and other things to attend to while we are gone.
    And then Bree appears, stepping from the safety of Crevice Valley last, a pack on her back, rifle in her arms, and a scowl on her face as stubborn as ever. There is a thick hat pulled down over her ears, but her blond hair spills from beneath it.
    “You ready to perform your first Heist?” she jokes.
    “You know it.”
    We shift the weight of our bags on our shoulders and start moving, following the team before us.
    I hear the crow before I see him. He appears overhead, a dark silhouette against a pallid sky. He tails us for a while, overseeing our hopeful caravan and our boot prints, which leave soft impressions in the shallow snow as we head west.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
    Numerous people made this book possible. I’m near positive my gratitude could fill a second novel and then some, so I’ll attempt to restrain myself. Many thanks, in no particular order:
    To my fearless agent, Sara Crowe. This has been one heck of a journey and I’d have lost my way a long time ago had it not been for you. Thank you for taking a chance on me. And for answering all my emails. Especially the ones that started with “This is probably a silly question, but . . .” You are a godsend.
    To my brilliant editor, Erica Sussman, for getting it and loving it and making it better. Until your purple pen started scrawling questions in the margins, Gray’s story was only a fraction of what it is now. I can’t thank you enough.
    To the folks at HarperTeen / HarperCollins Children’s for welcoming me to the family and being nothing short of awesome. Erin Fitzsimmons for a cover that still makes me giddy with happiness, plus gorgeous interior pages to boot. Alison Donalty, Alisdair Miller, and Howard Huang, who were also instrumental in the creation of Taken ’s artwork. Tyler Infinger for the smile-inducing emails (and packages!). And to everyone else at Harper who worked on this book, championed for it, and helped see it into the world, please know I am terribly appreciative of all you do.
    April Tucholke, for reading this novel countless times and always providing insightful feedback. You’re the best critique partner a girl could ask for.
    All my writer friends in the Twittersphere and beyond: You’ve kept me sane. Particularly Sarah Maas and Susan Dennard. Thank you for squeeing with me at the high points and holding my hand at the lows. I owe you both a cupcake. Or four.
    Every teacher who has touched and inspired, but especially Lynn McMullin. That