"That's like asking a bird if they want to fly." Artemy says simply. Not only does the bird want to fly, it's all they know. Sure they struggle to learn. It's torment. They fall from the sky. Fear that they will never know what it feels to have the fresh air flow between their feathers.

But then they fly.

"My father would have gotten it right." He says tersely, holding Fever's hand just a tad bit too tightly, cursing the situation. His dead father. He would have solved this plague business. He just knows it.