Windwalker_Forbidden Flight

by H. J. Bellus

  Jonah guided her to where the leading edge of the kiraeen’s wing met his body. With the wing extended, she could more easily access the harness underneath. Kiva gripped the upper strap with both hands, stepped onto the lower one, and pulled herself onto his back. Once she was seated, he retracted his wing, still crouching. Jonah clipped her harness to Zakai’s at the thigh, and instructed her to lean forward. Kiva lowered herself forward, until her forearms were resting on the straps running the length of Zakai’s body. Jonah then clipped the rings at the front of Kiva’s shoulders to Zakai’s harness, and double checked the straps.

  Once he was finished, Zakai stood to his normal height. Kiva could instantly feel the strength, a deep well of potential energy within the muscled limbs of the kiraeen.

  “If you are going to be a windwalker, you will need to learn what it feels like to soar on the back of a kiraeen. I want you to pay special attention to how Zakai moves. You must learn to trust him, and in turn he will trust you.”

  Kiva gripped the harness with sweaty hands, and gave a quick nod.

  “Trust your instincts,” he said. “You’re good at that.”

  Jonah then turned to the kiraeen and called out, “Zakai, yatir!”

  Kiva’s stomach dropped as the great winged raptor leapt high into the air.

  8

  First Flight

  Zakai beat his powerful wings, and Kiva gripped tight as they were launched forward toward the drop. In the blink of an eye, the ground was gone–replaced with a vast expanse of open air.

  Kiva lifted her head, and a blast of wind made her eyes water. She quickly ducked it down once again. Far below, the dimly lit landscape rushed by. Zakai swept his wings back and Kiva clung tightly as they sped forward at even greater speed. Without warning, he shifted his hind feathers and their forward motion was translated into vertical lift. The speed of their climb slowed as gravity exerted its will upon them, and Zakai began to gently loop backward in an arc. Kiva looked up and found the ground far below. A smile of pure joy dawned on her face. This was better by far than anything she’d imagined. Her muscles began to relax.

  They reached the apex of the loop and curved back down again, falling with a sensation of weightlessness. Zakai tucked his wings and they gained speed, diving nose first toward the ground. Kiva felt a tensing of Zakai’s left hindquarter, and they were suddenly spinning like a top as they fell. She ducked her head against his soft feathers, warding off the wave of nausea assailing her stomach. It was clear now why Jonah had instructed her to skip dinner.

  Zakai spread his wings wide, and they swooped back up into the clear, star-strewn sky. They climbed gently on the currents, and Kiva felt a shiver run through her body. I can see everything, she thought with wonder. Far off to the east, beyond the desert, the moonlight reflected off a great, looming sea of darkness. She had of course heard of the great ocean to the east, but hearing and seeing were two very different things. Directly below, the desert buttes and mesas were like shadowy pebbles. Zakai slowly turned in a great arc, and Madina Basin came into view. From high above, Kiva could see clearly the tops of the towering walls, and the hollowed out basin within. It was filled with thousands of lights—from the homes of families eating dinner, spending time together. Kiva imagined sharing the experience of her first flight with her own family, and felt a pang of sadness.

  As they drifted high over the basin, Kiva thought she could see the light of her old home, and she leaned forward to get a better look. Zakai responded instantly, rolling over into a dive in that direction.

  “No!” she cried. If they were spotted flying low over the basin, it would be disastrous. Zakai swept his great wings, hastening the dive. No no no! Kiva pressed herself tight against Zakai’s body. Her forearms were pushing down into the harness at his sides, and she gripped the straps with white knuckles. Relax, she told herself. Trust your instincts.

  She relaxed the tension in her forearms and hands. Zakai ceased propelling them downward, but they were still free-falling toward the basin. Kiva wracked her brain for a way to control him.

  “Ainhasar!” she shouted, but it had no effect.

  An idea struck her, and she pulled back on the straps she had been gripping so tightly. Zakai’s wings shot out, fully extending. Kiva’s stomach did another somersault as they swung back up into the sky, climbing vertically. She pressed gently forward, and Zakai adjusted his rear limbs, causing them to level out. Kiva breathed a sigh of relief as they passed beyond the far walls of Madina Basin, floating gently on the air currents.

  Zakai was responding to her cues! If pushing forward is dive, and pulling back is climb, then what’s faster? Kiva thought back to what Jonah had said when they first took off.

  “Zakai, yatir!”

  The kiraeen instantly thrust his wings back, propelling the two of them into a swift, steep climb. They rose higher and higher, until Kiva felt as if she could reach out and touch the moon. The cool air raised goosebumps on her skin, and she pushed gently forward on the harness straps, until she and Zakai leveled out.

  The westward view was stunning. She could see all the way to the edge of the desert, where the arid landscape transitioned into dark, textured forest. It eventually climbed up the base of the great mountain range running north to south.

  The sensation of freedom coursing through Kiva was pure bliss. She lay flat on Zakai, closed her eyes, and slowly released her grip on the harness. With her arms extended, she made her hands into flat surfaces that sailed over the wind-stream. Relaxing her thighs, she slowly extended her legs out as well. With her arms and legs extended, Kiva slowly began generating her own lift. The rings of the harness jingled, and the latches became taut as she lifted off Zakai’s back. The feeling was indescribable. She was in a perfect balance between the desert and the sky. In complete harmony with all things above, and below. She was bathed in the wind, and it bore her as surely as solid ground.

  Kiva opened her eyes, and slowly brought her limbs back in, resting them into their places on Zakai’s harness.

  “Let’s see what you can do!” she said, brimming with excitement.

  Kiva pulled back on the harness straps and Zakai looped over backwards into a dive. She yelled out with joy as they plummeted, speeding toward the ground. Kiva pulled again, simultaneously applying pressure with her right foot. Zakai spread his wings, curving back up into the sky, spinning as they climbed together. Kiva released the pressure of her foot, ending their spin, and leaned hard to the right. Zakai peeled off, diving in the same direction.

  She tried pulling on just one side, and Zakai extended the opposite wing, causing them to bank sideways, rolling completely over. She pulled on the other and rolled in the other direction, then pulled both and Zakai again swooped up into a climb.

  As Kiva soared through the sky on Zakai’s back, she was carried away from her worries, her fears, and the pressure to succeed. Up here, she was free from everything. Nothing could reach her. Even exile would be bearable upon the back of a kiraeen.

  She continued experimenting, and began taking the wind into account as she gave subtle cues to Zakai. After what felt like a matter of minutes, the kiraeen turned and sped back toward the walls of Madina Basin. Kiva could sense that he traveled with purpose, and made no attempt to divert him. Soon the smooth stone formations atop the basin’s wall took shape in the moonlight. A moment later, Kiva spotted Jonah’s small figure leaning up against one of them. They drifted toward the same circular clearing they’d taken off from, and with several powerful flaps of his wings, Zakai slowed their speed and landed gently on the stone surface.

  By the time Jonah arrived, Kiva had unclipped the two rings of her harness, and was sitting up.

  “That was…” Kiva trailed off. She couldn’t think of a word powerful enough to describe it, nor could she wipe the grin from her face.

  “I know,” he said smiling back at her. “The best part?
It’s like that every time…in fact, it gets better.”

  Zakai lowered himself, and Kiva unhooked the latches on either thigh, and slid over his side.

  “You two were gone a long time. It’s been over an hour,” he said.

  “An hour? It felt like minutes,” she said in all honesty.

  “Either Zakai really likes you, or you’re a natural.”

  “Or both,” she said with a smile.

  Zakai chirped in agreement, and sprung into the air, lifting off to find a comfortable perch.

  They both watched him go, then turned to face each other.

  “Did you get a good feel for the harness?” Jonah asked. “How he moves?”

  “You might say that,” she answered with a small smile. The truth was, by the end, she was able to direct him as effortlessly as she would her own limbs.

  “Don’t get too spoiled,” Jonah warned. “No other kiraeen is as responsive as Zakai.”

  “He is magnificent,” Kiva agreed.

  Jonah looked her over. “That’s all for tonight,” he said.

  “That’s all?” she asked, disappointed. “We just started.”

  “Hold your hand out flat,” he instructed.

  Kiva did as he asked. Her hand wavered like a leaf. Try as she might, she could not keep it steady.

  “You may not realize it, but flying on a kiraeen can be exhausting. The physical toll, and the concentration required…Go home. Get something to eat, and meet me here tomorrow.”

  Kiva sighed. He was probably right. She was beginning to feel hunger pangs. “What’s tomorrow?”

  “Combat training,” he answered flatly.

  Kiva grinned. With two older brothers—one of whom was now a shadestalker—she’d had plenty of chances to hone her fighting skills. The thought of testing them against Jonah sent a thrill through her, which she quickly suppressed. “See you then,” she answered seriously.

  Kiva turned, walked to the edge of the wall, and began her descent back to the window of her room. Once in the safety of the sect living space, she lit the oil lamp on the wall and knelt beside the dinner tray she’d left behind. She ate voraciously. Given her appetite, the food tasted incredible.

  Full and satisfied, Kiva blew out the lamp, undressed, and lay down in her bedding. Less than an hour ago, she had been hundreds of feet in the sky, diving and swooping. Considering her excitement, sleep came faster than she’d have expected.

  THUNK.

  Kiva bolted up from her deep slumber, grasping for the dagger she no longer possessed. There was enough moonlight to see she was alone in the room, but her eyes were trained on the door. Slowly, she stood, cleared off the metal dinner tray, and held it in both hands.

  She crept forward toward the door and listened.

  It was completely silent, save for her breath.

  Kiva frowned. That someone would have the nerve to harass her here, in the middle of the night! She summoned her anger, banishing the fear that threatened to take over. She unlocked the door, and bracing it with her shoulder, gently opened it a crack to peek out.

  No one.

  She opened the door a bit wider and looked up and down the halls. They were completely empty, but there was something on her door. A ten inch steel spike had been driven into it, holding up a dried, flat lizard skin. Scratched into the skin was a single word:

  OUTCAST

  A shiver ran through Kiva’s body. She was unused to having enemies, and this place was home to the Sahra’s most lethal sect of assassins. The chances of someone breaking in from the outside were slim. She swallowed, and took one more look before yanking the long metal spike out with both hands. The skin fell to the floor and she picked it up; then went back inside, shut the door, and locked it. Fine. She thought. You want an enemy? she addressed the unknown vandal, You’ve got one. She took the skin and threw it out the window, watching as it caught the breeze drifted away.

  She decided to keep the spike, just in case whoever delivered it came back for another visit. She lay back in her bed, but this time sleep was a long time coming. Eventually Kiva drifted off, gripping the steel spike to her chest in her right hand.

  9

  The Harab Maneuver

  Kiva awoke to a knock at the door. She glanced up at the window and saw the sun had well risen. The knock came again, this time with a voice, “Kiva, it’s your father. Open up.”

  What’s in my hand? She looked down and found that she was still clutching the steel spike.

  “Coming.”

  She slipped it between the wall and the bedding and stood, hastily dressing herself.

  Kiva reached the door, unlocked, and opened it.

  “Hi Papa,” she said quietly.

  Her father stood before her for a brief moment, and she worried he might be angry with her. He then swept her up in his arms.

  “Oh Kivanya. Little moon,” he whispered.

  She hugged him back, and strangely felt as if she were the one comforting him. He eventually released her, and they both stepped inside, closing the door.

  “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” she said, trying not to think about the skin stabbed into her door the night before.

  “Are you sure? I can have them bring you more food. You look thin,” he said, furrowing his brow and pinching at her arm.

  “Papa I’m fine,” she said, smiling more genuinely. “The only danger here is that I die of boredom.”

  “Good,” he said, and his expression became more serious. “What were you thinking?”

  “What? I—”

  “You could have been killed! Those cliffs…the kiraeen…and that angry mob! If your brother hadn’t been there—“

  “Then I would have defended myself!” she asserted, her blood growing hot.

  “That’s not how it looked,” he countered, frowning.

  “I was caught off guard! It wasn’t supposed to go like that.”

  “And how did you expect it to go? Did you think the windwalker sidi would simply appear and grant you membership in his sect? That he would change centuries of tradition, after being humiliated in front of everyone?”

  Her father’s words hit her like a clay brick. “He humiliated himself! It is not my fault the old qadim can’t see beyond his own bias. The sect needs new windwalkers. It is not my fault Jado would cut off his nose to spite his face.”

  “Listen—”

  “No you listen. You said it yourself, remember? ‘The channels themselves would not exist, had the first few drops not dared to flow where none had before.’”

  Her father pursed his lips together. He pushed a hand through his hair, looking away. “I did not mean for you—”

  “But I did,” she interrupted him again. “And here we are.”

  Her father sighed, and his expression changed from frustration to worry.

  Kiva relented, reminding herself that he was not the enemy. “This isn’t just about me anymore, Papa.”

  “I know,” he said, sounding even more troubled. “Your mother has told me some of what’s going on.”

  “And do you support us?”

  “Of course I support you! Both of you. But there are people out there—dangerous people—who do not. I worry for your safety, and for your mother’s.”

  Kiva reached out and put a hand on his. “We will be fine, Papa. Look at our family. Two powerful stonemelters, and a shadestalker. None would dream of harming us.” She again remembered the spike in her door, then banished the thought. “Plus, if we can get the council on our side, people will have to accept that things are changing.”

  After a brief pause, Kiva’s father smiled. “You are just like her, you know.”

  Even just a few days ago, Kiva would have taken offense at being compared to her strict, overbearing mother. But now, she felt a newf
ound sense of pride.

  “I may not be able to protect you at all times,” he continued, “but I can at least help you defend yourself.” He reached into his leather satchel and removed a bundle wrapped in cloth. “This is for you,” he said, handing it over.

  Kiva took the bundle and unwrapped it. Inside the faded purple cloth was a belt, festooned with ornate iron rings and rivets. At the center was a beautifully crafted khanjar sheath, and within it, an equally beautiful dagger hilt.

  Kiva’s eyes widened, and a smile spread across her face as she drew the dagger, admiring it. “It’s beautiful,” she said.

  “I had planned on giving it to you once you’d chosen your sect.”

  Kiva felt tears welling in her eyes. She sheathed the dagger and wrapped her arms around her father. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “You are welcome, little moon. Always.”

  A subtle knock came at the door, and he looked at her with regret.

  “That would be the sect keeper. I am out of time,” he said.

  “Can’t you stay a little longer?” she asked. “The days are so long.”

  “Mica had to pull many strings to get me up here at all. I don’t want to cause trouble between him and his sect.”

  Kiva nodded. Things were delicate enough without any additional complication. “Will you visit again? Before the trial?”

  Her father’s expression fell, and she instantly regretted bringing it up. There was a good chance they’d never see each other again afterward.

  “I will try,” he said, before sweeping her up in another great hug. “Goodbye, Kivanya.”

  There was another knock, which they both ignored.

  “Bye Papa,” she said, squeezing him tight.

  They parted, and after one last fond look, he opened the door and stepped out. Kiva locked the door, walked to her bedding and collapsed onto it, clutching the gift her father had given her. She began to imagine a life without her parents, or her brothers, and the pain she felt was nearly unbearable. No, she steeled herself against it. I will not give up hope. Not yet.