Windwalker: Forbidden Flight Page 12

  Staring out across the silky dunes, Kiva watched, and waited. A gentle draft of wind blew, but there was something odd about it. Her brows knitted together. The draft had come from behind.

  She stood, spinning around and peering into the darkness. Two small, orange lights stood out amid a sea of black. She’s been watching me the whole time. Neither of them moved. Kiva stood in ready stance; the kiraeen remained in the shadows, watching.

  Kiva reached out to the creature, as she had with Zakai. Slowly, the great kiraeen stepped forward, her eyes steady as she moved. Kiva swallowed, and redoubled her efforts. The kiraeen continued forward until it was just beyond the light—a large, shadowy figure of razor sharp talons, rock hard beak, and great, powerful limbs.

  “Sahl,” she said gently, and the kiraeen screeched a challenge. The sound echoed painfully in the enclosed space, causing Kiva to duck her head.

  The kiraeen screeched again, and Kiva began to sweat. It didn’t appear to be affected by her attempts to connect with it.

  I have to calm it down, she thought, fighting to keep her hands steady.

  The kiraeen stepped forward menacingly, abandoning the shadows. Kiva’s pulse quickened. This close, the kiraeen’s enormous size was even more pronounced. She was nearly twice as large as Zakai. The creature’s feathers ruffled in a wave across her body as she stalked forward on her winged front limbs. Her onyx beak slightly parted, she crouched low, tail whipping around behind.

  “Sahl, sadiq,” Kiva said, trying to keep her voice calm.

  The kiraeen’s tail fanned open at the tip displaying a pattern of red and black feathers, dancing in graceful figure-eights overhead.

  Not good, she worried. Kiva’s first instinct was to reach for her dagger, but instead she slowly took the rope harness from the pouch at her belt. She ignored the kiraeen’s tail, and maintained steady eye contact.

  “Ainhasar—”

  The kiraeen burst forward with all of her strength. There was no time to think. Kiva leapt into the air. She spun her body sideways to avoid the head, and blindly threw the harness. The kiraeen’s beak snapped shut through open air as it passed, and Kiva was suddenly jerked forward. The pain in her injured shoulder was immediate and severe, but she held on. Somehow, the harness had found the kiraeen’s neck as it passed.

  Kiva was dragged along the rocky floor of the cavern as the kiraeen flew forward. The creature landed at the entrance, and pushed off with powerful rear limbs. In seconds, the ground disappeared. Kiva found herself dangling from the harness, hundreds of feet above the sandy desert below.

  She clung desperately as the kiraeen pumped her powerful wings, attempting to shake her loose.

  Kiva’s grip was worsening. With her other hand, she reached desperately for the harness, and missed. She now hung precariously from the strap, clinging with only three of her five fingers. The kiraeen jerked her head upward, and the harness was ripped out of her hand.

  Kiva gasped. She was falling. No! she thought desperately. The air rushed past her, and the great kiraeen screeched victoriously from above. I’ve failed. Kiva’s heart was pounding explosively in her chest. She closed her eyes. This falling sensation. It was an echo of one she’d experienced before.

  Windfaith.

  This time, there would be no water to break her fall. It didn’t matter. If she was going to die, she would die in the arms of the wind. Kiva spread her arms and legs wide, mimicking the kiraeen’s gliding form, and descended toward the desert floor.

  As the features of the ground rushed toward her, growing larger and more defined, Kiva thought of her family. I am sorry Mama. I wish I could have helped. Her one comfort was knowing her parents and brothers were resilient. They would weather the storm of her death, and continue on.

  Kiva heard another screech close by, and she squinted, looking around with watering eyes. A black shape dove toward her. Kiva’s first thought was that the skyhunter had come to finish her off before she hit the ground. But as it drew near, she realized it was too small to be the female. The kiraeen slowed, matching her speed.

  “Zakai!” she cried out with joyous surprise as he shifted below her. Kiva grasped his harness, and felt her weight rest against him as he began climbing upward. Kiva smiled, unspeakably grateful for the feeling of his soft feathers against her cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  An outraged screech pierced the air above. Kiva looked up and saw the female kiraeen diving toward them. “Yatir! Yatir!” Kiva urged. Zakai pumped his wings with all his strength, but it was no use. Had Kiva not been on his back, he might have out-flown her, but as it was, the skyhunter was dropping toward them too quickly.

  Zakai knew he was outmatched. As she approached, he turned mid air to face her, shielding Kiva with his body. Talons held forward, Zakai screeched as the female crashed into them. Kiva’s vision was filled with a swirling mass of black feathers and snapping beaks. They tumbled through the air, falling awkwardly toward the ground. Suddenly, they broke apart, each swooping back up toward the sky. Kiva could feel that Zakai was no longer flying with his usual vigor. There was very little chance they could endure another attack.

  Kiva leaned forward and placed her hand on Zakai’s neck. “Listen my friend,” she shouted over the wind. “You must out-climb her!”

  Zakai chirped, changing course. The air temperature felt suddenly warmer, and they began quickly climbing. A thermal! Kiva thanked the sun, and looked back. The female kiraeen was closing the distance between them, but being smaller and lighter, she and Zakai climbed faster.

  “Just a little higher!” she urged. Zakai beat his powerful wings, and they soared up on the warm air.

  Another backward glance showed the female kiraeen not far behind. She too had reached the thermal and was quickly on the rise.

  “Now!” Kiva shouted, pulling back hard on Zakai’s harness. His response was quick, but still slower than usual. He climbed vertically, then tipped backwards. Kiva looked up toward the ground, and saw the skyhunter approaching. Rather than fear or apprehension, she felt a fire growing in her belly. Keep your claws off of him!

  Kiva released her grip on Zakai and fell, rolling to face down as she did. The female kiraeen arrived below her, and Kiva crashed onto her back, then nearly slid off. With one hand on the loose bonding harness, and another clutching a fist full of feathers, Kiva pulled herself up. Once she had both hands on the straps, she redoubled her grip, twisting the straps around her forearms.

  “Enough!” she shouted, pulling hard on the tough leather.

  Other than an annoyed screech, the kiraeen gave no sign of obeying. She continued beating her wings, relentlessly pursuing Zakai. Kiva could see now why he had lost some of his speed and control. Several feathers had been pulled out from his left wing.

  “I said stop!” Kiva shouted, but it wasn’t doing any good. She was once again turned upside down as the kiraeen followed Zakai, who was now diving toward the ground.

  She’ll be on him in seconds.

  Kiva felt a sudden sense of calm, and she understood what she had to do.

  Despite bearing a rider, the skyhunter ignored Kiva for the most part. She’d identified Zakai as the greater threat. She was wrong.

  Kiva unwrapped her right arm from the harness, and pulled her dagger from its sheath. They were in a steep dive behind Zakai. His tail was inches from the skyhunter’s beak. Kiva steeled herself, and raised the dagger.

  The female suddenly broke off, swooping back up away from Zakai. The force of the sudden climb pressed Kiva hard against the kiraeen’s back. After several long seconds, she broke off the climb and spun, rolling and flipping through the air. Kiva had no choice but to sheathe her dagger in order to keep from being thrown off. She grasped the harness with both hands and squeezed her thighs tight.

  The kiraeen continued to fly wildly, twisting, turning, and diving with all her strength. Kiva maintained her grip, though her shoulder screamed, and the sore muscles of her legs threatened to relax. The strain of ho
lding so tight for so long had taken its toll. Kiva was moments away from complete exhaustion when the kiraeen began to slow. She was no longer rolling and diving, and the beat of her wings felt decidedly heavy.

  With a defeated chirp, the exhausted beast spread her wings wide, gliding down toward the desert sands. Kiva was panting; both physically and mentally exhausted. The blessedly smooth flight meant she could finally relax her muscles. Now she just had to stay conscious.

  The sandy ground drew closer. They were heading toward the ridge of a great dune. The kiraeen hadn’t made any effort to slow her forward speed. It occurred to Kiva that she no longer had the strength. Kiva watched the ground, which was now speeding by only a few paces below. They sank down further, and Kiva ducked her head.

  They were suddenly and abruptly slowed as they made contact with the long ridge. Sand exploded into the air on either side as the kiraeen slid forward on her belly, while Kiva clung to her back. After a few seconds that felt like minutes, they slowed to a stop.

  Kiva unwrapped her arms from the harness and rolled off the great beast. She landed on her back, staring up at the sky. Both of them lay there panting heavily, too drained to move.

  Remember, Kiva’s exhausted mind grasped for the coherent thought. She closed her eyes, concentrating. What was I supposed to remember?

  She opened her eyes, and her brows furrowed…The trial!

  Kiva rolled over and pushed herself up with shaky arms, drawing on a reserve of strength even she hadn’t known she possessed. Beside her, the kiraeen lay in the sand, wings resting limply at her sides. Kiva slowly sat up, and a moment later managed to get to her feet. With slow, shaky steps, she trudged around to where the kiraeen’s head lay upon its outstretched neck, resting in the sand.

  The skyhunter’s eyes were open, and she watched Kiva with unsettling alertness.

  “I am Kivanya Raisel Fariq, windwalker of Madina Basin,” Kiva breathed from her dry, scratchy throat. “Show yourself, skyhunter, and heed the call of she who would bond you.”

  Kiva fell to her knees before the creature, and once again reached out with her mind. The kiraeen’s eyes narrowed, then grew wide. Her pupils dilated, and Kiva felt her own relax.

  She soon found herself drifting through the ether of the kiraeen’s consciousness. Like Zakai, the skyhunter’s mind was filled with threads of animal instinct, pulled taut by an inborn drive for survival. There were far more here, however, than within Zakai.

  Kiva’s attention was drawn by movement in the distance. She sensed a powerful pulsing energy, growing stronger by the second. This was it. The kiraeen’s rüh. Only instead of her seeking it out as the scripts instructed, it was fast approaching her.

  It drew closer, emanating power that flooded over Kiva in immense waves. It shone through the threads of instinct, sending shafts of light through the ether. Kiva steeled herself, and the power came crashing into her.

  And so began the dance. Kiva was immediately overwhelmed by the powerful onslaught, but she held on, refusing to be taken without a fight. Pushing back with all of her being, Kiva fought to keep the madness at bay. She understood right away that there would be no risk of breaking this kiraeen’s indomitable spirit. The best she could hope for would be a balance in which she could maintain her humanity.

  Kiva concentrated, working to keep herself centered as she braced against the sandstorm of the kiraeen’s rüh. The skyhunter pushed, but Kiva was ready for it. She waited for the mental assault to abate, then shoved back with all her strength. It was working. If she could hold her ground, she would soon strike a balance. The kiraeen lifted its head and screeched, pushing her back with all its strength. Sweat stood out on Kiva’s face, and a drop of blood trickled down from her left nostril.

  The kiraeen’s force relented for a split second, and Kiva shoved with the last of her strength. A balance was struck. Kiva and the skyhunter’s rüh were split perfectly down the center. Kiva quickly leaned forward, grasped the skyhunter’s great beak in both hands, and pressed her forehead to the kiraeen’s. She had the strange sensation that her mind was no longer fully her own, and she collapsed back into the sand, staring up at the sky.

  The bond was forged.

  A wave of cold rolled over her, and white ash began falling from the sky. One floated gently down and landed on her nose. Cold, she thought, realizing that the ash was not ash at all, but frozen drops of rain.

  13

  The Trial

  Ismaela Fariq looked nervously to the sky, gauging the position of the late afternoon sun. Where is she? Her daughter had been stowed away atop the walls of the basin, but now the farce would have to end. What has that fool boy done with my daughter?

  The crowd, which had been clamorous, now mumbled idly, awaiting a verdict that at this point, seemed inevitable. Kivanya had been due nearly an hour ago, and Ismaela could stall no longer. If Kiva didn’t soon show her face, the verdict would be guilty by default.

  Ismaela looked out over the crowd from behind the seven stone benches of the council. An eighth bench had recently been added, though it was made from the dried, gnarled wood of the chitalpa tree—a temporary measure until another stone bench could be crafted. Hundreds had gathered to witness the trial, and support, or oppose Kivanya. Nearly all women wore black headscarves, embroidered with the kiraeen symbol Ismaela had contrived. Some of the men wore them as well, including her husband, Haruk. The council members spoke in hushed tones at the far end of the qarar—a low shelf of stone that served as a stage for public hearings.

  Netaniah—council elder, and leader of the weaver sect—glanced to Ismaela from across the stage, her expression dark. She had been convening with the other elders as time ticked away. They eventually broke off, each finding their seat on the stone council benches, except for Netaniah. She approached Ismaela, wearing regret upon her face.

  “I am sorry,” she said. “The council members are decided. They will delay no longer. If Kivanya can not reveal herself, then we are powerless to help her.”

  Ismaela felt her hopes beginning crumble. She’s coming! She has to, she thought, but the only outward indication she gave was a curt nod.

  The sympathetic look on Netaniah’s face hurt more than any of the insults Ismaela had endured from the opposition over the past week. That look of pained concern meant one thing—it was done. Suddenly all of their work uniting the women of the basin, their exuberant victories—including council representation—meant nothing. I’m going to lose my little girl. Ismaela’s eyes welled up, and Netaniah put a hand on her shoulder. “I am sorry,” she said again, before turning to take her seat among the other council members.

  Ismaela cast a venomous look toward Jado, before turning forward to scan for signs of her daughter.

  The crowd quieted as word spread that a verdict would be forthcoming.

  Senior councilman Daivari stood and stepped out toward the center of the stage. At one time, his ceremonial white robes would have ended just above the ground. But the years had taken their toll, and the last few inches now dragged at his shuffling feet.

  Everyone watched his gradual procession with growing anticipation.

  Kiva, where are you?

  He reached center stage, and lifted his bald head. “People of Madina Basin,” he called out in a powerful voice. “You bear witness to the trial of Kivanya Raisel Fariq, accused of violating sect enrollment protocol, trespassing on sect land, public disruption, and being accountable for the death of a kiraeen belonging to the windwalker sect.”

  The crowd murmured in surprise at the last charge. Ismaela caught the comments of those surrounding the stage.

  “Hah! A small girl, killing a kiraeen? Preposterous!”

  “More of Jado’s lies!”

  “That girl is a menace!”

  “Exile the blasphemer!”

  Ismaela furrowed her brows. This charge was not among those she’d known were coming. There was no way Kiva could have killed a kiraeen, at least not by herself. What was mor
e likely was that Jado piled on the false charge to ensure a severe punishment.

  Daivari lifted his palms, gesturing for quiet. After a few moments, the agitated crowd once again hushed.

  “Our laws dictate that the accused must appear before the council, or face the full extent of punishment for the alleged crimes.”

  Ismaela’s gut clenched. Kivanya…

  The old man took a ragged breath.

  “By the obligations of the council, and the sanctity of Sahra’ law, I hereby pronounce Kivanya Raisel Fariq, gui—”

  A shrill screech interrupted the verdict, and a shadow, dark as night was cast upon Daivari, turning his white robes gray. He lifted his balding head skyward. His mouth fell open, and his eyes grew wide.