Having destroyed the thing in his head that hurt him, and stopped the RAB straight after, John still sat in his tree, feeling dazed and ill. But the urgency allowed him no time to recover. He had somehow managed to use his magic to escape from Ward 3. He tried to do it again. To go away, it didn’t matter where.
After the third attempt, he gave up. Whatever he’d done, it seemed he couldn’t do it again. If only he could be a bird.
He could see the flashes of torches coming toward him. There was no time left. John melted his form into that of a hawk, and flew across the fences toward the rising sun.