Jubal started up the spiral stairs with Natura several steps below him. “The priest also warned of titanic changes to take place and how the powers we Nephilim possess will be needed for the survival of the entire race.” The wife of Pan spoke in a voice that echoed in the well.
“It is so,” Jubal confirmed the statement when no one else responded.
“Then, we will be sending the Tinies out to face those perils on their own. How will they survive the cataclysms to come?”
When they reached the top of the stairs Jubal replied, “The responsibility will be ours and mine most of all.”
“Why does it fall on your shoulders more than ours?” Hermes asked.
Jubal led them into the storage closet, pushed the shelves back into place, and then went into the workroom. He laid out some tanned-leather sheets and began writing the first Aaka Thanatos would need to know. Jubal waited until everyone was in the room to answer the question. “Since I will be scouting the sites, I will know where everyone is, and it is my responsibility to either check in on them regularly or send one of you to visit the sites when it is not possible for me to do so. If I encourage people to go it is only right that I see to their protection.”
“And I will as well,” Hermes confirmed his commitment to provide life-force energy to help the Tinies and so did the others.
“Excellent,” Pan exclaimed while rubbing his hands together, “We all have plenty of flooding work to do, let’s get to it.”
“Language,” Natura chided him for the cavalier use of the curse word in his exhortation, which affected the man as would water splashing off a duck’s back.
Everyone followed him out except Thanatos, who sat watching each Aaka being written down from memory onto the swaths. “If you are going to attempt flight, it might be best if I remain in order to be of assistance should things go not quite as planned and emergency aid is required.”
Jubal did not look away from his task, but felt the need to reply. “What makes you think I am about to do something like that?”
Vashti’s nephew chuckled, a disquieting sound that fortunately only lasted a few moments. “Unless you learn to fly, you will never be able to accomplish your goal beyond much more than what you laid out for us this evening. The distances involved are too great on foot and therefore would take too much time, more than you can afford to spend without being missed. That and the byplay between you and Victoria convinced me you would make the attempt very soon. If I have surmised incorrectly then I will leave with those Aakas and spend my time trying to master them. If I am right, prudence dictates a fellow Aakacarn should be close enough to at least focus Cushion of Air before you hit the ground.”
Jubal lifted the stylus from the swath and stared into a pair of pale blue eyes. “A prudent man would not try what I intend to do about an hour from now, but I will take you up on the offer to focus a cushion of air to break my fall. I am not going to fall, mind you, but it does not hurt to take a few precautions.”
“And I will of course be there to provide my other service should you miss the cushion.”
Chapter Nineteen: Fight or Flight
The full moon gave off its pale light as countless stars twinkled in the firmament above and persistent gusts came in from the west. Thinner branches in nearby trees swayed in the wind and the scent of night-blooming flowers filled the air. Flickering lamps spaced along the street and in the windows of nearby houses added their faint luminosity to the night.
Jubal stood on his back lawn wearing the hawk amulet against his collar bone, mentally preparing himself for the first ever attempt at human flight. He took a deep breath in an attempt to settle his nerves.
“The towers and government buildings are not illumined by lamp or so much as a candle. They are made of stone and quite dense so try not to smash into one of them,” Thanatos advised, with a comment that increased rather than decreased the level of anxiety.
Was he being serious or trying to be funny?
With him it was difficult to know. In either case, Jubal was aware of the danger. “I am planning on ascending far higher than Semi’s tower before I attempt to soar.”
Without waiting for a reply, he focused energy into the amulet and was instantly enveloped in the form of a hawk. His legs and feet had extended down into talons and his arms meshed into wings. Rather than flap uselessly, he mentally performed Elevation, drawing the energy through the ring, and steadily increased the volume, rising up off the ground.
Focusing potential through the crescendo not only allowed him to ascend more rapidly, it required less of his life-force, and yet even the feel of vibrant energy coursing through his being could not convince his mind that he was all powerful as it had done so often in the past. The risk being taken was far too great for that kind of hubris.
The gusts intensified the higher he went, compelling him to draw more power through the ring in order to keep from being shoved to the east. The wind curved relentlessly against the hawk body in an attempt to force his wings open, straining him physically with the effort of keeping his arms in tight.
Soon he was five times the height of his home and still rising. Looking down, it seemed hundreds of fireflies had settled on the ground in neat rows. The higher he went, the fainter those flickering lamps became until he could barely see them.
His own human form within the translucent copper-colored hawk was clearly visible to him, but less and less of what was around or far below could be seen, and that included Thanatos. It meant if Jubal fell there would be no cushion of air to break the fall because the collector of the dead could no longer see the hawk.
The cocoon kept Jubal’s body temperature at a comfortable level and the wind from actually coming into contact with his skin. The only physical sensation came from inhaling the chilly air, which was growing colder as he went higher and the experience caused him to wonder if he could ascend so high his lungs would freeze, making it impossible to breathe.
With the ground far below and the endless sky above, it seemed as if he could fly right off the world, and suddenly the thought of getting lost in the heavens sent a different kind of chill up his spine. Rather than give in to the new fear, he allowed the possibility of being forever adrift among the stars to help him make a decision; he was high enough.
Lowering the mental volume of the Aaka just a smidgen resulted in a corresponding drop in altitude, which lowered his anxiety to slightly below the level of panic.
It was taking nearly as much energy to resist the battering wind as it did to maintain the incredible height. At a guess he was four thousand or so cubits above the ground, six thousand feet by Cush standards, and what he intended to do next would require even more courage or insanity, depending how one wanted to view the action.
Three years of purposefully watching hawks soar in the wild gave him an idea of how to glide in the air, he hoped. It was time to either make the attempt or levitate back to the ground. He ceased the Aaka keeping him aloft and immediately plummeted like a stone.
With Elevation gone, the only drain on his life-force came from maintaining the flow to the amulet. On the positive side, Metamorphosis did not require much potential, which meant the Aaka took very little from his pool of energy, and on the negative side, he was falling.
The time to spread his wings had come and he followed the thought with action.
The wind wrenched his arms back painfully, yet he managed to level off, and even so his heart continued to beat a rapid rhythm against his breastbone. Every muscle in his body tensed in response to his heightened nerves, making him glad he emptied his bladder ahead of time, because the clench would otherwise be squeezing out every drop right at that moment.
Keeping his arms even, he tilted his right hand back with his left forward, and the wings adjusted, turning the entire hawk body to the right. He lowered his right arm while raising the left and went into a dive to the right, then did the opposite, diving to the left. Holding his arms straight out stabilized the dow
nward glide but it took a lot of adjusting of his hands and arms in order to break out of the dive and glide without losing any more altitude. It was then that he thought to take another breath.
Flying in the night proved to be disorienting, and it was all he could do to recognized up and down, and that because the moon and stars were above and everything below him was dark. He had no idea where he was in relation to his house or how to rectify the situation. Soaring in the night was turning out to be nothing like what he had anticipated. Flying in the daytime would have put him at risk of being spotted from the ground, but at least he would have been able to see and identify what was below him. The errant thought did nothing to change the situation, so he dropped that line of thinking.
Rather than do anything fancy, he was far too tense and frightened for that sort of thing, Jubal adjusted his wings and angled into what he intended to be a wider, more expansive, circle. The peaceful glide succeeded in lowering his heartrate and diminishing his fear to the point he noticed a familiar pattern to the stars and moon. The sight reminded him of the chart Artemis had given him years earlier for the scouting mission. “I can use the heavenly bodies to figure out where I am,” he spoke out loud even though no one could possibly hear him.
Breathing steadily and with his mind in a much calmer state, he was able to note subtle differences in the landscape below. Down and to the left he could see pinpricks of light surrounded by a vast sea of darkness. Absolutely nothing shined in the forest so the tiny specks of light had to be coming from Semidon. He banked more to the left, tightening the circle, and caught a shimmering glimpse of the moon far below, yet the pale orb was up where it should be and giving off a steady glow.
He continued to reduce the circumference of his glide pattern until the pinpricks of light were perfectly centered beneath him, while he still overflew the forest on the outer perimeter. The shimmering moon reappeared on a regular basis, leading him to conclude the image to be a reflection off the river.
“I know precisely where I am,” he told the world.
He also knew every street and building leading from the river to his house, which meant he could glide home without crashing into a solid structure, if he was careful. Actually landing without injuring himself in the process could be a serious problem, but he had a few ideas that might work, if he was lucky. Unfortunately he would only get one guess before hitting the ground and so had to make it a good one.
After circling twice more he noticed the lights were getting clearer, meaning he was losing altitude, and needed to rectify the situation. A real hawk would flap its wings to gain height, a fete his arms could never manage, and so the only viable option was to use his life-force energy.
With growing confidence, Jubal summoned the potential for Cushion of Air, and focused the energy below him, trusting the theory; the Aaka will push him higher.
An indigo blue cushion formed directly beneath and in contact with the hawk body. That part worked as anticipated and actually stabilized his glide, but did nothing to increase his altitude.
“Don’t worry,” he spoke out loud but a part of him was not convinced and still wanted to worry a little.
He ceased the tune and chose the one he was certain would succeed where the other had failed. The notes for Stream of Air played in his head, summoning the potential. He allowed the energy to radiate powerfully from the front side of his body downward, sending a huge hawk-shaped column of air blasting toward the ground, accompanied by the boisterous sound of a tornado.
He could not see but could well imagine what was happening to the parts of the forest he was overflying; branches snapping, trees being toppled, and who knew what else being ripped from the ground and tossed away. If folks had been asleep they certainly were not any longer. The amount of energy being focused was probably visible even to the Tinies and he would not have been surprised if every living thing could feel the harmonic waves, yet the release of all that destructive power did nothing to increase his altitude. He ceased the focus for Stream of Air and allowed himself to worry more than a little.
How could so much power do so much damage and not move him a hair higher?
After resuming the glide pattern that had calmed him before, he thought of the actual process of focusing potential, while a small part of his mind wondered how he was going to get back on the ground without crippling himself. He mentally performed the Aaka again, this time using a trickle of power, and focused the energy through his right hand. The indigo beam did not travel far, nor did it need to, for close observation of the light gave him the answer. The actual stream of air began outside of the hawk image about a hair-width from the tips of his wing feathers; otherwise the stream would shove the appendage backward with the same force it projected forward.
“What I need is something stable and right below the hawk body to redirect the air back at me,” he concluded, and after a few more revolutions came up with the answer.
He added a Da Capo to Stream of Air and then the notes to Forward Shield played in his mind, summoning the potential. His body being in a horizontal position caused the energy field to solidify right beneath him, and rather than focusing a full power blast, he gradually increased the flow of air striking the shield. The blowback gently brushed his wings.
The flickering lights below grew fainter. He was gaining altitude! It crossed his mind that had the shield been physically attached to him the effect would have been nullified, but it seemed that things created from life-force energy obeyed rules he had yet to discover. The realization evaporated the last traces of fear from his consciousness, filling him with confidence, and he increased the flow of air by three fold. The blowback struck his wings, shoving him higher, and that was when he decided to tilt his arms and do more than glide.
He flew upward to the right and then to the left, he ceased the shield, dove straight down, and then brought the energy field back, shooting back up into the air.
“This is great!”
His feeble human voice was lost in the wind but that did not diminish the excitement that fed the impulse to shout out in triumph. “I am flying!”
Judging by the chillier air entering and exiting his nose, throat, and lungs, and the pinpricks of light below, he ascended a thousand cubits, near the height he had originally reached before dropping, but the high altitude no longer troubled him.
Time had lost all meaning, forgotten in the joy of the moment. Eventually it dawned on him he had been aloft for a very long time and Thanatos might actually begin to fear his other service would be required. Lightning flashed in the west, thunder rumbled in minutes later, and the display convinced Jubal it was time to go home before the storm hit.
“I can fly but can I land without breaking my neck?”
It was a good question, one he gave a great deal of thought as he ceased to focus the shield and angled downward toward the river, which was the only area he could be certain no huge and solid structure would bring his flight to an abrupt end.
Jubal titled his wings and angled toward the street leading from the river to his house, and was soon gliding over the tree-lined boulevard, using the flickering lamps as a guide. Forked lightning lit up the sky and that was when he noticed men and women in their yards looking off to the west, which was the area over which he had focused the destructive stream of air into the forest. He considered the approaching storm to be a mixed blessing; one that held people’s attention but also brought the risk of him being struck by a bolt.
His hawk body was high enough not to be noticed in the dead of night and since he was no longer focusing the shield, no Nephilim would be seeing a glow of potential. Those factors along with the lightning show saved him from discovery, facts that would change if he were to foolishly do something to attract unwanted attention.
The speed at which he flew quickly brought his triangular house into view and also brought back his concern over how to land safely. A way to end the flight entered his mind, but some of his earlier ideas had not work
out as intended, and so a hope of success was all he had to go on.
He was just above the trees lining the street and perhaps a thousand strides from his front yard when he tilted to the right, snapping off twigs and leaves from the upper branches of the nearest sycamore, and then swung around behind his house. For an insane moment he thought to angle back his wings and land as he had observed hawks do in the wild, but chose to summon the potential for Cushion of Air, and then dropped straight down.
Thanatos, who had been staring to the west, turned toward the sudden burst of indigo life-force-energy. “Well, you are alive,” he said as Jubal ceased the potential feeding the cushion and dropped the final three cubits to the ground. “Each time I was convinced you had fallen to your death, I saw a flicker of your blue light, and knew there was still hope. Your assault on the forest was clearly visible and audible, but I doubt anyone suspected you were the cause. I mean, who would, especially with that storm approaching? From my observation, your powerful light show was over by the time your neighbors came outside to investigate. That said, I am curious, are you satisfied with tonight’s performance?”
Jubal ceased the energy flow into the amulet and the hawk-form vanished. “The experiment went well. Once I overcame the intense fright, flying became more than enjoyable, it was thrilling. Consequently, I will practice every night until soaring into the sky is as easy for me as running in a meadow.”
Thanatos looked heavenward and then gazed into the eyes of his aunt’s husband. “Congratulations on your success. Uncle, you are one step closer to fulfilling your life-long mission. After you master flight, I will become one of your ardent students, and strive to acquire the skill, but until then I will endeavor to master the healing Aakas.”
Jubal nodded agreement. “The sooner you learn the Melodies, the sooner you will be able to offer health services and learn what we need to know about the people and layout of the compound. For now, concentrate on those things, learning to fly can come later.”
Dawn Of The Aakacarns Page 38
