Windwalker: Forbidden Flight Read online

  “Al’ahmaq!” she cursed, throwing a loose stone at the wall, then winced at the pain in her shoulder. “Can they do that?”

  Jonah nodded.

  “How far have they moved it? When will it be held?”

  “Tonight,” he answered gravely.

  Kiva’s face paled. We’re not ready. “What are we going to do?” she asked. “I can’t even climb back down to my room!”

  Jonah took a deep breath. “From what I can see, we have but two options. I can have Zakai carry you down to the basin’s entrance, and you can take your chances with the council as it now stands…With the new balance of men and women, your chances for avoiding exile are good. Better than good, I’d say.”

  “And what of becoming a windwalker?” she asked.

  Jonah shook his head slowly. “Sidi Yehiel is old fashioned. He will not allow it.”

  Kiva’s heart sank. She felt the burning of a fire, hot and defiant, kindle within her. “What is the other option?” she asked, leveling her gaze at him.

  Jonah hesitated. “It’s dangerous…I swore I would do better by you, Kivanya. I…”

  Kiva’s anger and frustration boiled up. She could feel the tirade forming on the tip of her tongue, but she forced it down. Jonah wasn’t the one trying to clip her wings. He only wanted to keep her alive and safe…but ultimately it was her decision to make, not his.

  “Jonah,” she said, reaching for his hand. “It means a great deal to me that you care so much for my safety. But I need you to understand I am capable of making my own decisions. The responsibility, and the consequences are mine to bear, not yours.”

  He looked into her eyes, and as her heart called out to him, Kiva understood that there were some decisions in her life that would forever remain beyond her ability to control. Kiva asked him again, “What is the second option?”

  Jonah sighed. “You bond your own kiraeen, today. If the entire council, plus Yehiel see what is possible, there’s a good chance at least one of them will change their mind.”

  Kiva nodded. No woman had ever bonded a kiraeen before. She’d looked specifically for evidence of such in the scrips the previous night, and found nothing. Another impossible task…not that she’d been deterred by those in the past. But she was injured, and should something go wrong…

  “What if they saw me flying on Zakai?”

  Jonah shook his head. “I had considered that as well, but Jado would know, and he would tell the others that you were not bonded to him.”

  Kiva wracked her mind for another solution, but short of hastening Yehiel’s death, couldn’t think of one.

  Kiva took a deep breath. “I will attempt the bonding,” she said, getting painfully to her feet.

  “There is a great deal you must know before—”

  “You mean this?” she asked, picking up the script on bonding.

  “Well…yes,” he answered.

  “I read through it last night. I think I understand how it works.”

  “And the consequences? The price?”

  Kiva nodded.

  “Then you know that the bonding process is an incredibly delicate one. It’s not just the forging of the bond itself that poses a risk, but how it is executed.”

  “Right,” Kiva said. “Push too hard, and you risk breaking the kiraeen’s spirit.”

  “Correct, and your own along with it. Allow the kiraeen’s raw, primal energy to dominate you—”

  “And degenerate into a feral creature, untethered from rational thought and driven purely by instinct,” Kiva finished for him.

  Jonah nodded. “Forging the bond is all about balance. It is a dance between dominance and submission. A search for middle ground between the two. I do not control Zakai any more than he controls me.”

  “But he obeys your commands. You must have some control?”

  Jonah shook his head. “No. He complies as a result of our shared purpose. If he chose to disobey my request, he would be well within his means to do so.”

  “When executed properly, a bond is comprised of loyalty, not control. A kiraeen bonded by control will obey your commands, but one bonded by loyalty will know when to ignore them.”

  Kiva furrowed her brow. Why would you want your kiraeen to disobey? “But the scripts said it was necessary to maintain control.”

  “Think of the scripts as a guide, rather than a set of rules. Not everything in them must be followed to the letter.”

  Kiva nodded.

  “The balance struck at the time you solidify the bond will determine the permanent nature of your relationship. Would you spend a lifetime bonded with a loyal friend, or an obedient slave?”

  “I think I understand,” she said. She was both thrilled and terrified. Today was the day she would meet her kiraeen, and if all went as planned, bond the deadly predator. “I am ready,” she said. “To the roost?”

  “No. You remember what happened last time you were there. The way Zakai reacted to you on your first encounter…”

  “Then how do you propose we do this? Do you know of another way?”

  “Maybe…”

  “Well?”

  “The other night, we discussed the windwalker who attempted to bond a female kiraeen. Well, given the female we saw during your proving, I decided to dig deeper. What I found was…unexpected.”

  “What was it?”

  “Kiva, you would not be the first woman to attempt bonding a kiraeen.”

  “What?” she asked, shocked. “Who was she? What happened to her?”

  “The details were pretty thin,” he said. “It was long before Jado. Back then Sidi Gidon led the windwalker sect. He had a strong and willful daughter, Mehalia, and he allowed her to give challenge. She passed the trials, and excelled in her training. She even managed to bond a kiraeen, for a time, but something went wrong.”

  Kiva frowned, leaning forward. “What happened?”

  “Following a combat training exercise, the bond began to fail. The kiraeen became confused, and started lashing out at everything within reach. Two other windwalkers and a kiraeen were killed before it took Mehalia’s life and flew full speed into a stone wall, breaking its neck.”

  Kiva was speechless.

  “Apparently the bond was tenuous from the beginning.”

  “Has anything like this ever happened before?”

  “Not that I could find. In the rare case of a failed bonding, a windwalker is either broken, or driven to madness.”

  Kiva took a deep breath, looking over Jonah’s shoulder to the cave opening. “Did the histories say why something like this could have happened?”

  “They do.”

  “What do they say?”

  “After the incident, Sidi Gidon stepped down. He was blamed for the disaster, and accused of bringing shame to the windwalker sect.”

  “That explains why Jado refuses to entertain the idea of a female windwalker,” Kiva realized aloud.

  “The histories were written by those who had succeeded Gidon. They claimed the kiraeen refused to accept Mehalia because she was female.”

  “I see,” Kiva said, unconvinced. “And what do you think?”

  “I think they are right…at least in part.”

  Kiva’s anger flared up, but instead of berating him, she held her tongue and waited for him to finish.

  “I think the reason Mehalia failed was because she was female…and her kiraeen was male.”

  Skyhunter. The word once again echoed in Kiva’s consciousness, and her anger dissolved. “You think I should bond a female kiraeen.”

  “None have succeeded in doing so before, but all of those who attempted were men.”

  Kiva’s mind cast back to her trials. The imposing kiraeen, larger than the others with red feathers atop her head. Kiva could almost feel the unbridled primal energy flowing off her in waves. What Jonah said made sense, and his idea felt somehow right. But there were still problems.

  “Say you’re right, and I must bond a female for this to work. How w
ould we even go about finding one?” she asked.

  “I have been considering this idea for the past few days, and when not on patrols, I have tasked Zakai with seeking one out. Unlike the males, females roost alone. Zakai has found one such roost in the mesas to the southwest.”

  Kiva sat for a long moment, considering.

  “It won’t be easy…especially not in your state,” Jonah warned.

  She knew all too well how right he was. The first flight, essential for sealing the bond, would be turbulent at best. Kiva considered resuming life as normal with her family in the basin. She tried to picture herself issuing a challenge to the weaver sect, finding a husband…but the illusion wouldn’t hold. There was no going back.

  “It’s not too late. You can still face the trial as is. They will not exile you…especially if you admit fault—”

  “No,” she said. “I have chosen my path. I will not abandon it now.”

  Jonah looked at her. In his eyes she saw respect, worry, and she again wondered if there might be a hint of something more.

  Kiva stood, and he rose as well.

  “I will have Zakai take you to the female’s roost, after which he will return here to me. It will be too dangerous for him to remain. If there were more time, I’d have you wait for him to bring me to you…but the trial is in a matter of hours. Once you’ve bonded your kiraeen, you will need to go directly there. If you fail to arrive, you will be found guilty, regardless of votes.”

  “Of course,” Kiva said. “I understand.”

  They walked out of the cave into the clearing. Kiva’s joints ached, but her bruised limbs were nowhere near as painful as they had been the day before.

  Jonah whistled twice, and Zakai sprung from his perch and glided down toward them. Kiva watched him descend, while Jonah checked the straps of her harness. “Not too tight?” he asked.

  “No, that’s good thank you.”

  Zakai landed beside them in a gust of wind. Jonah stood before Kiva, and she could tell he was questioning his decision to send her off.

  “I will be fine,” she insisted. She did her best to bury the anxiety twisting in her belly.

  “I should come with you—”

  “No. You said yourself, you wouldn’t get there in time,” she argued.

  “But if you’re injured—”

  “If I don’t return for the trial, then you may come for me…but if you risk yourself or Zakai, so help me I’ll—”

  “Okay,” Jonah agreed, holding up his hands. “Alright, I’ll await you in the basin below.” He then placed his hands on her shoulders, and faced her calmly. “You can do this. It’s time to change what it means to be a windwalker.”

  Kiva nodded, and Zakai lowered himself. She grasped the harness with her bandaged hand and winced, pulling herself up. Shifting her weight, she began to latch the thigh clips of her harness; then decided not to. If she was going to ride her own kiraeen with no harness, she would have to get used to it.

  “Oh,” Jonah exclaimed, “I almost forgot.” He reached into his satchel and pulled out a bundle of brown leather straps. “It’s a bonding harness. You’ll need it for your first flight.”

  “Thank you,” she said, taking the harness. With no buckles or clips, it was far simpler than the one on Zakai. She bundled it into a small bag over her shoulder. “For everything.”

  This is it, Kiva thought. She would bond her kiraeen, or die trying.

  She took one last look at Jonah, then turned her gaze toward the clear blue sky.

  “Zakai, yatir!” she shouted, and he sprung forward through the air, climbing skyward.

  12

  The Bonding

  Yellow rays of light shone through the thin, scattered cloud cover. Zakai hit a thermal updraft—the result of a dry patch of ground baked all day under the sun—and was pushed upward. They quickly climbed, and were soon gliding across the desert, high above the tops of the jagged, rocky buttes.

  Once they’d reached cruising altitude, Kiva sat up straight and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. The black headscarf her mother had given her trailed behind, tucked into her tunic, and the dagger from her father rested at her waist. The air cooled the sweat on her brow, and she pictured the female kiraeen—the skyhunter—in her mind. She again opened her eyes, reached back, and ran her hand along the leading edge of Zakai’s great wing.

  Far off in the distance, the blurred line of a sandstorm swept across the pocked, reddish-brown landscape. Kiva frowned. A bad omen. Well, she reasoned, at least I’m not down there.

  Zakai tilted his wings, adjusting their course, and Kiva looked forward. Along the horizon an imposing mountain range climbed to dizzying heights. It was the same one she’d seen from atop the buttes she used to scale with Mica and Amir. Running along their base was a broad strip of dark green plant life, climbing partway up.

  Directly below, the dry, rocky desert landscape began transitioning to great, rolling sand dunes. The aureate afternoon light turned the hills of sand into rippling waves of molten gold.

  Nearly an hour had passed before Zakai began to descend. Kiva had never seen this part of the desert before. It was beautiful, but had she been down on the ground, she’d have felt unsettled and exposed amid so much sand, and so little stone in which to seek cover.

  Zakai tilted his wings, and they curved south toward a towering wall of stone. The enormous natural formation climbed up out of the sand, presenting its flat topped surface to the sun. Judging by Zakai’s angle of descent, Kiva guessed that their destination would not be a skyward roost, but something else entirely.

  The details of the craggy stone wall grew clearer as they approached. Dark, irregular shadows marked openings in its face. It was toward one of these that Zakai flew, adjusting his feathers to account for the warm draft of air.

  Kiva held his harness with one hand, her head raised high to get a good view of their destination. A few more minutes, and they were on fast approach toward a large, darkened opening. It was one of the bigger crevices, narrowing to a peak thirty paces high. Zakai tilted his body back, flapping his wings to bleed off speed as he descended onto a rocky perch, just below the opening. He then turned his long neck back and looked at her with one eye.

  Kiva met his gaze. “Thank you, my friend.”

  Zakai let out a low, warbling whistle in a descending tone. Despite their lack of bond, Kiva understood exactly what he meant. “Don’t worry about me,” she said, smiling. Kiva slid over his side, carefully finding her footing on the precarious protruding rock. One slip, and she’d be falling long enough to count to one-hundred. “It’s the skyhunter who should worry,” she said with a grin.

  Zakai gave an uncharacteristically quiet chirp, and lifted off, wheeling around back toward the basin. Goodbye, my friend.

  Kiva turned to face her fate. The cavern before her was dark and still. No sound or movement came from inside. Either the skyhunter was deep within, or she was out on the hunt. Kiva considered what she would do if the kiraeen were to arrive this very second. Remembering the swooping talon attacks she and Zakai had performed, she opted to take her chances inside the cave.

  Kiva lowered herself from the perch, onto a narrow ridge that ran along the wall below the cavernous opening. With her back flat against the wall, she cautiously side-stepped along it. Once directly below the cave, Kiva shifted her body around and pulled herself up into it. She paused, listening closely. The only sound was the gentle, near constant breeze.

  Pulling her shemagh over her head, she stepped forward on the rocky, uneven floor, peering into the darkness beyond. She continued as far as she dared, just beyond the edge of light cast by the afternoon sun.

  Kiva stood a moment, listening and watching. This is it, she thought. Heart pounding, she took a powerful stance and readied herself.

  With a deep breath, she announced her presence, “I am Kivanya Raisel Fariq, windwalker of Madina Basin!”

  There was only silence, and she continued, “Show yourself, skyhunt
er, and heed the call of she who would bond you.” They were the same words spoken for the male bonding ceremony, changed slightly for her purposes.

  There was only more silence, and after several tense seconds, Kiva slouched. Must be on the hunt, she concluded. Turning back toward the entrance, she stepped into the light. The view was spectacular. To her left, the light cloud cover had begun to glow bright orange as the sun made its way across the sky, toward the great mountains. Straight ahead, the desert stretched out, seemingly forever. The hazy outlines of long, flat mesas gave shape to the horizon. To the right, the skyline faded to a deep, rich cobalt. Kiva lowered herself to a crouch, basking in the natural glory of this world. As beautiful as it was, she was unable to fully lose herself in the view. If the kiraeen didn’t soon return, she would miss her trial altogether.