The PriZin of Zin

by Loretta Sinclair

  “Wait!”

  He stopped.

  Aeryn wrestled with her thoughts for a moment. “The girl who was killed—the one who was screaming—did you know her?”

  Ryder nodded without turning around. “She was from your world.”

  “Why didn’t someone rescue her?”

  “She wasn’t mine. Besides, you can only rescue those who wish to be rescued, Aeryn. That one was headstrong and stubborn. Never felt as though she needed help from anyone. She ran off on her own to do everything by herself, and she paid the price. She never learned to truly fly on her own. Not everyone survives down here, Aeryn. It’s my job to try to teach you—to save you, but I can’t teach you if you refuse to learn.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “What’s not fair, Aeryn? Life? No, it’s not. You think I want to sit down here and listen to you scream for your life like that? I won’t be able to help you then. You’re my recruit. You’ve been assigned to me. I don’t think you understand that.”

  “I understand.”

  “No, you don’t. You don’t seem to understand at all that I am here to help you, but I can’t if you keep refusing.”

  “I never actually refused.” She grinned. “And, besides, I was just testing you.”

  “Testing me?” Ryder’s jaw dropped.

  “Yes. I was testing your loyalty.”

  “Uh huh. And?”

  “And what?” She smiled.

  “Did I pass the test?” Clearly annoyed, Ryder just stared at her.

  “For now,” she smirked. “We’ll see more when the flying lessons begin. Right now I have to do stupid, useless, push-ups because my angry mentor told me to. Don’t actually understand why I need a mentor at all, but since I’m stuck with one, I might as well try to help him.” She propped back up on her elbows, then dropped back down. “Wait,” she said. “Tell me again why I need to do push-ups.”

  Ryder dropped his head and let out a deep mournful sigh. “Why me, Sir? Why me?”

  Chapter 36: Fear

  Fear: noun a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined; the feeling or condition of being afraid

  Day 3

  “When can I fly, Ryder? Huh? Huh? When can I? It’s time, isn’t it? I can fly now, right? I did the push-ups. What do I have to do first?”

  “Calm down, Aeryn.”

  “I can’t. I’m too excited. It’s already been two days. Today is my last day, so we have to fly now so I can move on. I only have today to find my dad. Is it time? Is it?”

  “We have to wait for the others first.”

  “Why, Ryder? Why do we need to wait for them? You said I need to solo. That means I need to fly all by myself. I don’t need anybody else. I can’t solo with anyone else around. That means I have to fly by myself, then I can leave. When can I leave? Why do I have to wait? What are we waiting for again?”

  “Aeryn, stop.” Ryder felt himself losing patience. He squared his shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. A tiny tear quivered at the inside corner of her left eye. He wiped it with his thumb. “We’re not ready yet. Certain things have to be done to ensure your safety. Just be patient a few minutes longer. Please?”

  She nodded.

  “I know it has been three days. Believe me, I know this well. There is still time. But trust me, and let me get things covered for you. Okay?”

  She nodded again.

  “Trust me?”

  Another nod.

  “Just sit down over there for a few minutes and be quiet.”

  “Okay, I’ll sit down and wait for you. I do trust you, Ryder. I know you’re here just trying to help me. I know now that you only want what is best for me. When we were working out, and you made me do endless push-ups, and run laps, I know that you were just trying to—”

  “Aye, yi-yi.”

  Higher and higher the two ascended, Aeryn in the rear, and Ryder taking the lead, as usual. Through the treetops and up into the clouds, a single vine carried them skyward. Aeryn clung to the long feathery leaf, afraid to look down, while Ryder continued to climb as the vine grew at an accelerated rate. Aeryn could watch it sprouting new vegetation as each second passed. She held on in wonder. Jack and the Beanstalk…she giggled.

  “Why were we waiting for people when there’s no one here but me?”

  “Everyone flies in their own way and time, Aeryn. Just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean that it isn’t happening. The fact that you don’t see others around you, protecting you, doesn’t mean they’re not there.” Ryder stopped climbing. Positioning himself against the main stalk of the vine, he glanced back down at his charge. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Why aren’t you climbing?” Ryder scooted back down to where Aeryn was hanging on. “Are you afraid to fly?”

  “No,” she said. “It’s not the flying that bothers me; it’s the crashing.”

  “You don’t have to crash. Just believe in yourself and the rest of us.”

  “Us? Who is ‘us’, Ryder?”

  “Your support group, Aeryn. We are the people who believe in you and support you.”

  “And torture me,” she quipped.

  “Life is all about perception, Princess.”

  “Don’t call me that.” She pulled herself closer to the vine. “I just want to get this over with and find my dad.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why don’t you help me, Ryder? If I’m your ‘charge’, then why don’t you help?”

  “I am helping.”

  “Oh yeah? How?”

  “By teaching you how to fly on your own. My doing everything for you is not teaching you; it’s rescuing you.”

  “Nothin’ wrong with being rescued.”

  “Not until you become used to it. Some people use being rescued as a crutch. They feel as though they don’t have to do anything because they know someone will come along and do it for them. They see themselves as victims and forget how to try.” Ryder’s gloved hand reached out and lifted Aeryn’s chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. “I won’t let that happen to you. You are not helpless and you are no victim. Now climb.” He turned back skyward and began his ascent again.

  Aeryn had scarcely moved a few feather-leaves when she heard Ryder announce they were there. Looking out from her perch, she saw nothing but billowy white clouds so thick her vision could not break through them. Above her was a floating platform. It took her only a split second to recognize it. She had been here before, when she first arrived. This was where Aeryn had been taken when she had lied and told the drill sergeant she already knew how to fly. Now here she was again, right back where she had started from. She had done nothing but come full circle.

  Ryder took hold of her from above, hoisting her up on to the platform by the back of her shirt. She was unceremoniously dumped on her behind, and wrapped with some sort of string.

  “What is this?” She fingered the fine silver string now loosely tied around her waist.

  “Safety harness.” He continued making his preparations for her first flight.

  “It doesn’t look like any safety harness I’ve ever seen.” She tugged on the single thread, but it refused to let go of her. “Shouldn’t there be more to it? I mean, like more straps, or something?”

  “Don’t need anything else. Think of this like your lifeline.”

  “Lifeline to who?”

  “Our Commander.”

  “Why to him? Why not to you, or to the platform here, or something else? Something I can see and touch? Why can’t I see the ground from here? Is this really more training, or a trick? Ryder, I’m not sure any more about this. Maybe I need more push-ups. Why don’t we stop and—”

  “Aeryn, be quiet and listen.”

  She stilled.

  “Do you remember everything I taught you?”

  She nodded.

  “Good,” he said, and shoved her off the platform.

  A
eryn screamed, or at least she thought she did. She couldn’t hear anything. With the speed of her fall and the wind whistling in her ears, all she could hear was a loud shrill. Panic gripped her. Aeryn flailed against the rushing wind, grabbing for anything, no matter how far; tree branches, leaves, stalks, Ryder.

  “Ryder!”

  How could he do this to her? How could he just dump her off like that?

  “When I see you again, Iron Ryder, I’m gonna…”

  “You’re gonna what?”

  Her head jerked sideways. Ryder was there, pacing her all the way down. She reached for him, but he ducked, gliding sideways away from her.

  “Put your arms out. It’ll slow the fall.”

  Aeryn thrashed and flailed more, trying to get over to Ryder. “Help me!” Over and over again she screamed. “Ryder!”

  “Aeryn, let go of your fears! Don’t panic.”

  Don’t panic, she told herself. Don’t panic. Stretch your arms out. Learn how to soar. Reaching outward, Aeryn stretched her arms as far as they could go. Opening her hands, she let the wind whip through her fingers. For a moment, she slowed. Panic struck again when the ground sped into view. With each inch she fell, Aeryn flailed again, screaming Ryder’s name. Ducking again sideways, he soared toward her and reached out his hand. Aeryn grabbed and jerked him toward her. Drowning in sheer panic and speed, she clung to him, preventing him from being able to maneuver. He jerked back, forcing her grip to release, and shoved her back.

  “Stop! You’ll kill us both!” he screamed.

  Aeryn tumbled end-over-end, barreling toward the ground. Righting herself, her body slowed slightly seconds before impact.

  She slammed into the ground. Dust shot up around her like exhaust from a rocket, then settled again on her motionless body.

  Chapter 37: Overcome

  Overcome: o·ver·come, [oh-ver-kuhm] verb, o·ver·came, o·ver·come, o·ver·com·ing.

  to get the better of in a struggle or conflict; conquer; defeat: to overcome the enemy; to prevail over (opposition, a debility, temptations, etc.); surmount: to overcome one’s weaknesses

  Tears came in racking sobs once she caught her breath. Aeryn was choking herself trying to suck in air to breathe, and cry out in anguish at the same time. Curling herself into a tight ball, she hugged her knees tight and sobbed.

  Nothing around her made sense anymore. She was hurt and broken. Ryder had pushed her too far. Her heart ached. Her lungs burned. Her stomach churned. Bile rose in the back of her throat. She tried to choke it down, but could not. Her fight was gone. She turned her head and vomited.

  Wiping her disgusting mouth with her sleeve, Aeryn pushed herself up. On the ground in front of her was a pair of iron boots.

  “No.” she cried. “I can’t.”

  “Let’s get you cleaned up.” Ryder’s familiar voice no longer carried its usual comfort.

  Aeryn didn’t want to go with him, but had no energy left to fight. He could do whatever he wanted. She didn’t care anymore.

  “I’m a failure.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I can’t fly.”

  “It’s not that you can’t fly; you just haven’t learned yet.”

  “Haven’t you been paying attention? She screamed, her patience and all self-control gone, Aeryn lashed out at the man in front of her. “I just fell from way up there and almost killed myself, in case you weren’t paying attention.”

  “You were never in danger, Aeryn.”

  “Never in any danger! Are you insane? Didn’t you see me? I failed, Ryder. I can’t do it. I will never find my brother or my father. I will never get out of here. I will never see my mother again. I can’t do it. I can’t—” she slumped back down and wept.

  “Ok, you’re right. You can’t, and you never will.” He turned to walk away. “I give up on you.”

  “Why are you hurting me?” Her sobs stopped Ryder.

  He turned back to his charge. “Close your eyes.”

  “What?”

  “See what I see. Close your eyes.” Ryder’s gloved hands touched her temples.

  Electricity shot through her veins from her head to her toes, washing away all of her hurt and pain. Aeryn felt clean. She looked down at her arms. No more dirt and vomit stains. No more bruising and blood. She was spotless, almost glowing; pure white if that was even possible. Aeryn looked up into Ryder’s face. He was smiling through his helmet. For the first time, she saw the man inside the suit.

  “Close your eyes,” he whispered.

  She did.

  Aeryn was jerked up, feet firmly planted on the ground and watched herself fall from the sky, replaying the terror from minutes ago. Yet this time there was no fear, no panic. It was like watching a movie play out on a screen in front of her; a screen of her life.

  Aeryn’s body fell from the platform with the others.

  There were others? Aeryn had never seen them before. She had been so caught up in herself that she’d never noticed anyone else.

  One by one, their arms unfolded and wings appeared. They all, one at a time, caught the current of the wind and began to soar. One after another was swept away on the wings of the wind. All except her. Aeryn now stood firmly on the ground and watched herself falling, screaming, flailing, speed increasing, trying desperately to grab on to anything to save herself.

  There was no emotion or fear in her now. The current of electricity still pulsed through her veins while she watched herself. Within feet of crashing into the ground, the mantises appeared. Three of them shot out from the tree line, hidden from view, and softened her crash. The one directly underneath her took the brunt of her weight from the fall. It lay mangled and broken beneath her. The other two quickly scooped it up and shot back to the trees, disappearing before she came back to her senses.

  “I thought you said they were messengers.”

  “Messengers, protectors; call them what you will. Their mission is to keep you from all harm.”

  Her arm began to itch, followed by a sharp pain. She looked down and saw a single feather sprout. Not a big beautiful feather, but a straggly, thin, wisp of a thing. More fluff than feather, it blew lightly in the breeze.

  “This is how you learn to fly, sweet Aeryn.”

  She looked at him, confused.

  “Only when realize you are proud and unyielding, can you be made whole again. But you won’t be re-made the way you were. Things will never be the same again. You will be made into a whole new creature, filled with a knowledge and belief in yourself that you never had before. That trust comes not from inside of you, as you tried to cling to before, but from something greater than ourselves. Close your eyes again.”

  Aeryn closed her eyes and saw herself back on the ground, but it was not ground. It changed. She was looking at the floor of her bedroom. Again, she was broken down and crying. Her mother was standing in the doorway. “One day you will see that this is for your own good. I’m sorry that I have to punish you, Aeryn, but what you did was wrong. You cannot take things that do not belong to you.”

  Aeryn scratched her arm, another sharp pain and another feather. This one was bigger than the last, but not fluffy. This was torn and mangled. It could never fly. Who could be proud of a feather like that?

  “Not all memories are pleasant, Aeryn, and not all feathers are perfect. Some will reflect the pain and the misery that we have experienced in life. But it is those experiences that shape who and what we are inside.” Ryder’s thumb gently touched her eyes, and they closed.

  She was at school. Aeryn took the certificate from her teacher, beaming with pride. “And congratulations to our study buddy team, Aeryn and Jessica, for the best class project this year! Working together, they were able to draw on each other’s strengths to create a cohesive and coordinated report with stunning visual aids.” The applause faded as she opened her eyes.

  “Ouch!” There, on the back of her hand was a beautiful, fully colored feather. It fluttered in the wind, each delicate hair-l
ike strand catching the breeze, lifting her hand slightly.

  She closed her eyes. Memory after memory flooded back. Her arms, shoulders and hands itched and ached with an intensity she had never known. Scratching while she watched, her upper body transformed into a beautiful flying machine, each feather a memory and a lesson learned.

  “What do you see, Aeryn?”

  “The good memories are pretty feathers.”

  “And the bad ones?”

  “Broken feathers.”

  “What do you know about the broken feathers?”

  “They are bigger and stronger than the others.”

  “And what is in common with the bad memories?”

  “They are all things I won’t let anyone help me with, or things I did wrong.”

  “What are the good ones? The pretty ones?”

  “Times when I let others help me.”

  Ryder smiled. “Accepting help from others is not a bad thing. It does not make you weak. You aren’t perfect, Aeryn. You don’t have to be good at everything. It’s okay not to be perfect, and it’s okay to accept help from others. It makes us stronger. We need all of our feathers; the strong, the broken, the tender, and the weak in order to truly fly.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell me this, instead of making me go through this ordeal?”

  “You had to learn it on your own. You would never have believed me. Besides, I had to show you the way. It is entirely up to you to whether you choose to follow. I can’t make you go. Good leaders stand out front and lead; they do not stand behind and push. You had to come along on your own.”

  Aeryn nodded; finally understanding on a deeper, personal level.

  “Now, spread your wings and fly. People are waiting for you.”

  Aeryn fluttered her wingtips while she descended through the floating feathery trees. She touched down lightly on the ground, the tips of her toes landing first, then settling back onto her heels. Her feathers ruffled in the light morning breeze, and lay down flat against her skin, sightless to the human eye. She looked around. In some ways she had come so far, yet here she was, right back where she started—alone in the woods, on a journey to find her family.