Windwalker_Forbidden Flight

by H. J. Bellus

  “Besides,” he said, “you didn’t need my help. That female kiraeen did more than I ever could have.”

  Kiva shook her head. “She tried to kill me, just like the others.”

  “She saved you. More than once. Only a female could have challenged so many…they are incredible creatures.”

  Saved me… Kiva had been so focused on her survival she’d missed what was in plain sight. The kiraeen had been protecting her from the males. That was why she hadn’t attacked in the tunnel.

  “You still haven’t answered my question,” she said, focusing on the present. “Why have you asked me here?”

  Jonah met her gaze, and the humor slipped from his face. “What you did, challenging in secret, was either very brave, or very stupid.”

  Kiva frowned, placing her hands on her hips.

  “But it was also an extraordinary display of talent. The effortless climb, the way you faced down that kiraeen…and the windfaith—zero hesitation. Spectacular!”

  As if I had any choice, she thought. Kiva relaxed slightly, but refused to give any indication of how much the compliment meant to her.

  “Jado is old fashioned,” said Jonah. “He thinks that if we simply hold to the old ways, things will go back to how they were.”

  “What do you mean, how they were?”

  “Windwalker numbers have dwindled over the years. People have begun to forget how vital we are to the survival of the Sahra’, simply because there haven’t been any large-scale attacks in the past two-hundred years. But the signs are there. This peace will not last forever. We must change…adapt.” He pounded a fist into his open hand, gazing off over her shoulder.

  “Signs? What signs?” Kiva asked.

  “Hm?” his attention returned to her. “Oh. One thing at a time. We need more windwalkers, and thanks to you, I think I know how to make that happen.”

  “Thanks to me?” Kiva asked.

  Jonah again turned his eyes to hers. He was so sure, so confident. Kiva couldn’t help being drawn in by his raw determination.

  “I’d like to train you to bond with your own kiraeen, and become a windwalker.”

  Kiva’s jaw dropped. “You want to train me…”

  “Yes.”

  “To be a windwalker?”

  “What do you say?” he asked.

  “But Sidi Jado—”

  “What Jado doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

  “But if he ever found out…you could be expelled from the sect.”

  Jonah laughed. “My Uncle denies the very existence of anything he doesn’t want to believe. He won’t find out.”

  “Wait a minute…Jado is your Uncle?”

  Jonah nodded nonchalantly. “He adopted me years ago…or rather, circumstance landed me in his care.”

  Kiva frowned. Given everything else going on with the council…this could make things complicated. Kiva studied Jonah’s expression, and found herself drawn to him. Very complicated.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “With the trial in ten days, there’s no way we’d have enough time—”

  “You know about that?” Kiva asked in surprise.

  Jonah nodded. “Me, and everyone else in the basin,” he said with a grin. “Your name is on everyone’s lips, for better or for worse.”

  Kiva sighed, pressing her palm to her forehead.

  “Listen,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders.

  Her skin tingled as if tiny lightning bolts were jumping between them.

  “You’ve got the talent. I know you do. And I know windwalking inside out. I grew up on this stuff! We get you on the back of a kiraeen before the trial, and the council will have to acknowledge what you are.”

  “And what’s that?” she asked.

  “The first female windwalker,” he answered. “If we can convince them it can be done, they will have to open up the sect to men and women. Which would mean…” He raised an eyebrow, gesturing for her to finish.

  “More windwalkers,” she answered.

  “Precisely! What do you say?”

  Kiva placed a hand on her chin, considering. The fact that Jado was one of the council members complicated things greatly. If it were discovered that his own nephew, adopted or not, was training her in secret, it could derail everything her mother and the weavers were working toward. On the other hand, if she were to succeed, it would only serve to strengthen the argument that women deserved equal representation on the council. Then there was Jonah. Somehow she knew he would be trouble, yet the idea of bonding her own kiraeen…

  She sighed. When did everything become so complicated?

  After a long moment, Kiva answered, “Alright. I’ll do it.”

  “Yes!” he shouted.

  “On one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  “No one can know. Not a soul. Jado can’t find out.”

  “Done. My lips are sealed.”

  “I mean it,” she insisted. “There is something going on here that’s bigger than either of us. If he finds out, it could mess everything up.”

  “I got it, no one will know but you, me, and Zakai. He’s got a big mouth, but don’t worry, no one listens to him anyway.”

  Zakai chirped a screechy objection from his perch.

  Kiva frowned. “This isn’t a joke.”

  “You’re right, I’m sorry.” Jonah stood straight and placed a hand over his heart. “You have my word, Kivanya Fariq. I will speak not one word of your training.”

  “Okay,” Kiva said, nodding. “I accept your offer.”

  “Excellent! We begin tomorrow night. Meet me here, one hour after sundown.”

  Kiva felt a smile spreading across her lips, and fought to conceal it.

  I’m going to become a windwalker! she thought excitedly.

  “Oh, and don’t eat anything beforehand,” he added. Jonah put his fingers to his mouth and whistled loudly. Zakai pushed off from his perch and climbed high into the sky, then dove suddenly, falling like a stone.

  “Don’t be late!” Jonah called, sprinting past her toward the drop.

  Kiva watched in surprise as he leapt from the edge of the wall she’d climbed moments ago. Seconds later, he and Zakai rose up again into the night sky.

  Show-off, she thought, and grinned despite herself.

  7

  Rüh

  Kiva spent the following day pacing her room, nibbling on the modest meals brought by shadestalker sect keepers. By late afternoon she’d begun to feel thoroughly stir crazy. There had been no visitors, and Mica’s room was decidedly bare, with no games, puzzles, or even any boring scripts to read.

  She approached the window and considered climbing out early, then decided against it. If she did have a visitor, or if one of the keepers were to return and find her missing…

  Kiva sighed, studying the pattern in the rug beneath her feet. She sat down cross-legged and waited, until the sun finally set behind the mountains to the west. About time, she thought.

  A gentle knock came at the door. “Dinner,” a muffled voice called from behind it.

  Kiva stood and stretched, then unlocked and opened the door. Behind it was the same keeper who’d brought her meal earlier—an elderly woman in loose fitting gray robes, tied at the waist.

  “Thank you.” Kiva accepted the tray of food. “No need to come back for the tray,” she added, shutting the door. Remembering Jonah’s warning, she set it down on the floor, and went to the window. The few clouds in the sky were lit by an array of vibrant pinks and yellows from the dying light beyond the horizon.

  One hour.

  Soon the light faded, revealing the moon, once again shining brightly down upon the desert.

  Close enough, she thought, and pulled herself out into the cool desert air. She began the climb, and soon stood o
nce again atop the walls of Madina Basin. There was no sign of Jonah, so she decided to do a little exploring.

  Kiva walked to one of the weathered stone formations, and ran her hand along the smooth surface. She continued around it until she discovered a cave, and peeked inside.

  “Having fun?”

  Kiva nearly jumped out of her skin. She spun to find Jonah, trying to hide an obvious grin with his hand.

  She resisted the urge to strike him. “Do you always sneak up on people like that?”

  “Unfortunately, no. Most windwalkers can sense the currents well enough to avoid being surprised.”

  “Sense the currents? How? What do you mean?” she asked, her curiosity winning out over her annoyance.

  “Come,” Jonah said, gesturing. “Let’s begin your first lesson.” He turned and walked back to the center of the clearing, and she noticed a cloth bag slung over his shoulder, along with a large canister made from hardened animal skin.

  Once there, Jonah reached into the satchel and pulled out a brown leather harness, all straps and iron rings. He held it out, and Kiva took it, turning it over in her hands. The rings had been sewn into it in several places.

  “Go ahead,” he said. “Try it on.”

  Kiva held up the harness, eying it skeptically.

  “Trust me,” Jonah said. “You’re going to want to wear that.”

  Kiva held it before her, and stepped through the loops. She pulled it up, and put her arms through the straps. Jonah stepped behind her, adjusting the straps as she looped the leather through a buckle at the front.

  He stepped back, rubbing the stubble on his chin. After one more quick adjustment to her shoulder strap, he nodded.

  Kiva adjusted the strap around her thigh. “What is this—”

  Jonah interrupted her question with two rapid whistles. Seconds later, they were sharing the clearing with Zakai. Kiva took a step back from him, and his feathers bristled in a wave over his body.

  “Now now, you two are going to have to get along if this is going to work.”

  Zakai chirped, snapping his beak in Jonah’s direction.

  “Oh quit complaining, you big baby. Kiva’s not going to hurt you.”

  Kiva was on her guard, ready to dive out of the way should the unruly raptor attack. “Me? Hurt him?” she asked, incredulous.

  “Kiva, try to maintain a sense of calm. Kiraeen are highly attuned to those around them. If you are on your guard, then Zakai will be too. Try to relax.”

  Kiva took a deep breath, and attempted to calm her nerves. It wasn’t easy. One swipe of his talon, and Zakai could open her up like a ripe melon.

  “Good,” Jonah said, taking a step back.

  “Now Kiva, I want you to reach out—”

  Kiva stretched her arm out toward the kiraeen.

  “No!” Jonah called out as Zakai snapped at her, and she jerked her hand away just in time.

  “Let me finish!” Jonah admonished. “Look into his eyes, and reach out with your mind.”

  Right, Kiva thought, willing her hands to stop shaking. My mind.

  She met the kiraeen’s beady orange eyes, and saw his pupils dilate. Her own eyes instinctively relaxed their focus, and she began to feel a tenuous connection forming between herself and the kiraeen. Zakai appeared to calm down, raising his head with his onyx beak slightly agape.

  “Good,” Jonah said, though his voice sounded strangely far away. “Maintain the connection.”

  As Kiva drifted through the ether of Zakai’s consciousness, she sensed a deep, primal pulsing. Curious as to the source, she followed it, winding her way through the tendrils of animal instinct, many of which were pulled taut as bowstrings. Careful to avoid them, she continued exploring with her mind, until she came upon it. A great, glowing mass of red energy from which everything else emanated.

  Zakai emitted a low, gentle cooing sound.

  “What are you doing?” Jonah asked. There was concern in his voice, but Kiva was too absorbed to pay much attention.

  She continued toward the powerful energy, reaching out for it.

  “Stop!” Jonah shouted, but Kiva was so close, and it was so beautiful. Such raw, unbridled power. It roared like a torrent in her ears as she drew near.

  A solid wall slammed into place between them, and the connection was instantly broken. Zakai shook his head, then nearly every feather on his body flared out. He extended his neck, parted his beak and released a deafening screech, inches from Kiva’s face. Kiva fell backwards, and Zakai leapt into the air, flying off.

  Kiva was shaking, sitting on the ground when Jonah came over. “What do you think you’re—”

  She looked up at him, wide-eyed and shaking. The anger melted from his face, and he extended a hand to help her up. Kiva took it and he pulled her to her feet.

  He asked in a gentler tone, “Are you alright?”

  “Huh?” She blinked. “I…I’m fine.” The truth was, her head ached fiercely.

  Jonah placed a thumb under her eye and moved in to get a closer look. He moved to the other eye, and Kiva suddenly realized how close they were. He was touching her cheek, and his face was inches from her own. She shoved his hand away and stepped back.

  “I’m fine,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t notice the color in her cheeks.

  “Who taught you to do that?”

  “Do what? I just did what you told me to,” she answered.

  “Oh I assure you,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “You did so much more…Anyone ever tell you it’s bad manners to bond another man’s kiraeen?” He wore that same small smile at the corner of his mouth again, and Kiva found herself bereft of a response.

  “So you nearly bonded a kiraeen with zero training? And here I thought nine days would be tough. You did it the first night!”

  Kiva swallowed. She couldn’t shake the blast of rage Zakai had directed at her. To Kiva, it didn’t at all feel like success. “Zakai…”

  “Zakai’s fine. You just gave him a scare, that’s all. Kiraeen are incredibly private creatures. What you saw was his essence…his rüh. You and I are the only ones to have ever seen it.”

  Kiva felt a wave of shame. She had been witnessing the very soul of this creature, and her first instinct was to reach out toward it like some kind of…lecher.

  “I…I’m sorry,” she said.

  “No,” he shook his head. “It’s my fault. I should have suspected as much. It would seem you have many extraordinary qualities, Kivanya.”

  Normally Kiva would have corrected him, insisting he call her Kiva, but there was something about the way he said it that didn’t bother her so much.

  “Let’s try again, only this time—”

  “Again? You’re kidding right? Zakai wants to murder me!”

  “Zakai! Tati!”

  The kiraeen sprung up from behind one of the stone formations, flapped his great, black wings, and drifted over.

  “He’s just pouting,” Jonah grinned mischievously.

  Zakai swooped in close and landed beside him. The wind from his wings briefly rustled their hair and clothing.

  “Go on, say you’re sorry,” Jonah said, giving Zakai a nudge.

  Zakai chirped an objection back at him.

  Jonah put his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow.

  Zakai turned his head toward Kiva, watching warily.

  Strangely, Kiva had never seen him this at ease in her presence before. His wings hung down, bent at the joint, and his long forward talons were lowered.

  He took a step toward her. Kiva glanced nervously at Jonah, who nodded encouragement. Zakai slowly extended his long neck, closing his eyes. His beak was inches from her chest.

  She once again looked to Jonah, who mouthed, “Go ahead.”

  Kiva slowly lifted her hand and placed it on his great beak. It w
as hard, but she hadn’t expected it to be so warm. Zakai pushed his head forward, turning it sideways so that her hand rested on the soft down feathers under his beak.

  A great smile bloomed on Kiva’s face as she realized what he was doing. She gently scratched the feathers as Zakai tilted his head for her. By the time he moved back, she was beaming. Zakai fluttered his feathers, giving a shake that began at his head and ended at the top of his tail.

  “There!” Jonah exclaimed. “We’re all friends.”

  “I don’t understand,” Kiva said, turning to him. “He’s not attacking. What changed?”

  Jonah pursed his lips and knitted his brow in thought. “When you see a kiraeen’s rüh, they see your own as well. It is not possible to bond one against his will—they must see in you a kindred spirit. Perhaps in you, Zakai saw he had nothing to fear.”

  Zakai chirped.

  “Now, we can begin your lesson,” Jonah said with a nod.

  “Begin? You mean that wasn’t it?” Kiva asked.

  “That was for you and Zakai to become acquainted. How else am I supposed to teach you to fly? Unless you’re hiding some feathers back there somewhere?”

  “Fly…” Kiva’s mouth had suddenly gone dry. “Aren’t there some things you’d like to teach me first? What if I fall off?”

  Jonah placed his hand onto a strap peeking out from under Zakai’s feathers. He lifted a metal clip attached to a ring, and pointed to Kiva.

  “Right…the harness,” Kiva had forgotten she’d even been wearing it. Butterflies were leaping and bounding in her stomach, and she grasped for an excuse to delay. “But Zakai and I barely know each other…he might not be comfortable enough to fly with me.”

  “Zakai?” Jonah asked.

  Zakai jumped playfully, landing with a thump.

  “I think he’s ready.”

  Kiva was frozen in place. Really? she berated herself. After everything you’ve done? You’re finally given the chance to fly, and you freeze?

  “Don’t worry,” he reassured her. “I was nervous my first time too. There’s really nothing to it…at least not with Zakai in control.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she thawed. She allowed him to lead her over to Zakai, who crouched down, lowering himself and extending the wing closest to her.