Flight of the Golden Harpy (16 page)

“Good boy, Shail,” Kari said, rising. “Lie still and I’ll be back.”

She went to the cabin and opened an old trunk that stored bedding. Pulling out a tattered blue quilt, she returned and spread it on the ground alongside him. “I want you to lie on this. It will keep the dirt out of your wounds.” He leaned over and smelled the material. His nose wrinkled, and he kicked the quilt away into a heap. “No,” she yelled, reopening the quilt and pushed his back and wings toward it.

Shail would’ve been content in the dirt, rather than on the musty human rag, but he wanted to please her. He poked the cloth before reluctantly climbed onto it, wondering how long he must yield to this female to keep her happy.

Her next test became a toxic-smelling object she retrieved from the human structure. Filling it with tempting water, she placed it to his mouth. He hissed at it, preferring to stay thirsty.

“Shail, it’s only a cup.” Kari took a sip and offered it to him again. He skittishly sniffed it and carefully sucked up the water in the center, his parched lips never touching the plastic rim.

“You really are wild.” She sighed, noticing he didn’t drink like a human. “I’m going in the woods to get you some food. Stay here.” She grabbed a pail from the cabin and left him.

Once she was gone, Shail labored to rise. He couldn’t afford to be helpless. Hoisting himself up, he cringed with the pain, and after a few steps, he was out of breath. Walking any distance was out of the question. He flapped his wings, but saw the lower half of his broken wing was bound between the wing tip and middle joint. He seethed at the plastic cast and tried to pull it off.

“Shail!” Kari screamed, walking from the trees. She dropped the pail of berries and rushed to him. She wrapped her arms around him and gently forced him back down on the quilt. “Don’t do this, my beautiful bird. You’re safe. There are no hunters here,” she cooed. “Lie still. The cast must stay on your wing or you’ll never fly again.” She sat next to him and rested her back against the vehicle. He placed his head in her lap, and she ran her fingers through his hair. “I guess this is the only way to keep you quiet. I don’t want to drug you.” After a few minutes, she fell asleep.

*   *   *

The chatter of squirrels in overhead branches woke Kari. She was lying on the quilt, and Shail was nowhere in sight. She jolted forward and looked around. Behind the vehicle, she heard his soft sniffle and saw he had crawled off the quilt and was nesting on a cluster of dry leaves. His bright eyes twinkled, displaying contentment, and he held a half-eaten red fruit in his hand. Near him lay a pile of assorted fruits and nuts.

“Where did you get all that food?” she asked, knowing he couldn’t have picked it.

He glanced upward, and his answer entered her subconscious. “My harpies,” he relayed.

“Your harpies?” she said, and then wondered whether she had really heard him.

He intentionally closed his eyes, confirming a “yes.” Recuperating from the abusive trauma and free of the debilitating drugs, he could finally focus on harpy telepathy and communicate with her. He didn’t understand her sounds, but sensing her mind, he gained a rough meaning of the words. If she rambled with long sentences and did not concentrate on him, her message to him was lost.

“You’re finally talking to me. I figured it was only a matter of time, since you talked to me in our dreams.” She grabbed a red fruit and stood. Eating the long juicy food, she stared into the branches that held only squirrels. “I don’t see any harpies.”

*   *   *

The setting sun told Kari she had slept most of the day and needed to prepare for the coming night. In the cabin she found some dusty solar lights. Cleaning the plates, she set them outside, facing the sun, and hoped they would recharge before dark. Sleeping in a bed would have been nice, but the cabin was filthy, and it was nearly impossible to move a claustrophobic harpy inside. She gathered a few blankets from the chest and dropped them and the quilt near him. He showed his disdain by the toss of his hair. “Too bad if you don’t like them. It’s going to be cold.”

He gave her an indignant glance and reached for the water jug. After filling the cup, he leaned over and sucked up the water.

“Very good, Shail,” she said. While she slept, he had overcome his fear of the containers.

As darkness approached, Kari spread the quilt next to him and waited. With no argument, he dutifully climbed onto the cloth. She sat down beside him and flipped on one of the solar lights.

Shail carefully placed his hand close to the light, behaving as if it were hot like fire. Discovering it cool, he prodded the metal and flipped the on-and-off switch. He sniffled at her giggles. “You act like a little boy with a new toy,” she said. Though harpies were supposedly animals, she saw that Shail was intelligent and learned quickly. She explained the operation of a solar light, but was unsure he understood.

As night approached, the temperature dropped and a cold ocean breeze swept through the small clearing. Kari grabbed the blankets and covered Shail and herself, but he would have no part of them. He flapped his wing and sent the blankets flying. “I’m cold, even if you’re not,” she said. He moved closer, putting his arms around her and cloaking her under his soft wing.

Kari’s muscles tensed as she resolved to resist any sexual advance. Her mind raced with thoughts of how to discourage him, even considered placing a sedative patch on his back. He was now strong enough to easily overpower her. She waited for his seductive kiss, his fondling hands, but her wait was pointless. He submissively lowered his head and was still, with no inclination that he wished to mate.

After some time, Kari relaxed. He knows, she thought. He senses my doubts and fears. Confirming her perception, she felt the light massage of his extended wing against her shoulder. She stared up through rustling tree branches, listening to the whistling wind, as the gorgeous male held her. She had never experienced such elation. Her life had been a tangled web of searching, longing, misery and confusion, but the web had blown away with the howling night wind. The object of her lifelong quest lay sleeping beside her, and it felt right. Perhaps he had cast a spell over her or used hypnotism; it no longer mattered. Despite the controversy and their differences, he was the only one who completed her, and she would love him all her life.

*   *   *

Shail opened his eyes as the pale dawn light filtered through the trees. He leaned over and faintly kissed her cheek. Unclasping her arms, he removed his wing. She shivered, but continued to sleep. Kneeling over her in the shadowy darkness, he glanced at the heap of nasty blankets. He rose, and a sharp pain shot through him. He gripped his side, retrieved a blanket, and placed it over her. She clutched the warming blanket and remained asleep.

Shail went to the food and popped a few nuts into his mouth, but he focused on the sky and trees, sensing the approach of a harpy. In seconds, Aron glided into the clearing and landed alongside him. Respectfully, the tall brown harpy lowered his head to Shail, but a glimpse from his bright green eyes reflected his joy. “I am pleased to see you also,” Shail relayed with silent telepathy and wrapped his arms about Aron, nuzzling his neck.

Pulling apart, Aron shuddered. “I so feared…”

Shail nodded. “I, too.”

Aron glanced down at the sleeping female and then at Shail. “At last, she is yours,” Aron relayed. “The wait was long, but worthy. She faced the grogins on the road and now the island hunters. And if not for her, the flocks would mourn your loss. Her journey into the stars made her strong, unlike other females.”

“She is strong,” Shail agreed, “for she orders the harpy ruler around like a pet.”

Aron’s eyes twinkled. “I am sorry to hear.”

Shail raised his head. “Sorry you are not. It pleases you that I learn obedience.” He shook his head. “I can endure this and gladly, but our time apart is the worry. Though strong, she is also strange. Confusion fills her mind, and she is unsure in which world to dwell. And worse, I harmed her trust. Fearing my death, I forced the bonding,”

Aron placed his hand on Shail’s shoulder. “Do not worry, little brother. Against all perils, she returned and saved you. Her love is true. Time shall heal her doubts.”

“But time, I do not have,” relayed Shail. “I was once a hunting tale, a glimpse of yellow feathers in the trees, but now all hunters know I live. They shall seek me and my flock … the tide of hunters floods our islands.”

Aron lowered his head. “I must add to your worries: The beetles have changed. They devour all living things, trees and animals. A swarm killed the hunters who harmed you.”

Shail looked up with surprise. “Those men are dead?”

Aron nodded.

Shail walked over to the vehicle and leaned against it, staring at the ground. “I am glad they are dead, but this beetle news is not good.” After a few minutes, he lifted his head. “Gather the western flocks, Aron. All females and fledglings must go the islands. No swarm will fly the distance of water.”

“The islands are no refuge. Too many hunters go. Last light I lost two, defending their fledglings.”

Shail ruffled his feathers. “Your warning I should have heeded. My reckless attempt to save the one now endangers the many, for I am worthless as a ruler. The wound to my side heals, but my wing, I do not know.”

Aron looked at Shail’s half-wrapped wing and raised his eyebrow. “The western harpies shall follow me. They know I speak for you. But the river and eastern flocks shall only follow a pair of yellow wings. If you do not mend, all may be lost.”

“Secure all on the islands,” Shail relayed. “When they are safe from swarms, we deal with the hunters. Take these males that guard me, for I wish none spared in this task. Leave a fledgling to bring food and give warning.”

“What of my males protecting these lands?” Aron asked.

“They remain.”

“I leave you now, but take rest,” said Aron, placing his hand on Shail. “I sense the pain and the burden you carry. You trouble me, brother.”

“I shall quickly try to heal, but always, I have troubled you.”

Aron breathed deeply and put his arms around Shail. “May this long-awaited female bring you happiness.” Aron extended his wings and flew through the trees toward the ocean.

Shail poured a cup of water from the jug and took a few sips, his thoughts focused on the beetles and hunters. The survival of his species depended on him, and he was useless. He wandered to the quilt and sat down, easing his hurting ribs, and watched Kari sleep. He longed to crawl between her arms, so her caressing hands would relieve his anxiety, but he refrained. To build trust, he would stay distant, letting her accept him on her terms. He stretched out and studied every inch of the exquisite but headstrong female. “She is your match,” Aron had told him on the island. The truth of it made Shail quiver. After so long, he finally was resting alongside his soul mate.

He was distracted when a small fledgling fluttered down from the trees and shyly approached him. Dropping to his knees and lowering his head, he waited for Shail’s response.

“Aron sent you?”

The fledgling nervously nodded.

“There is plenty of food,” Shail relayed.

“Bring more with the dawn.” The fledgling backed away and fled into the trees.

As the dominant male of all flocks, Shail struck fear in young harpies and could intimidate the adult males with the slight arch of his wings. Though he had never abused his power, it was the way of the harpies. All brown-winged harpies respected the daring goldens who, in turn, sacrificed their lives in defense of the flocks. Shail knew the fledgling was terrified, but also very proud. Aron had chosen him to bring food and watch over their injured monarch.

Shail noticed Kari stir. She was beautiful, perfect. She felt the quilt and sat up. He slid beside her and lowered his head, rubbing it against her leg. She smiled and stroked his head.

“You like being petted,” she said. “I’d love to lie here all day and play with you, but I have work, starting with treating your wound.” She stood and fetched an antibiotic patch and other medical supplies from the vehicle. Sitting down near Shail, she removed his old bandage and reached for the disinfectant. As the spray bottle came near, he swiftly snatched her wrist. Startled, she dropped the bottle. Leaning over, he sniffed it and jerked away. He seethed at her and the bottle.

“I see your defiant eyes,” she said. “Don’t give me trouble. I know it stinks, but it will help you heal.” She picked up the bottle and slowly brought it near his raised head and arched wings.

Shail created a constant low hiss, conveying his unhappiness, but tolerated her spraying the foul poison and applying an equally reeking and sticky substance on his wound. She also placed some annoying thing on his back.

“There. All done,” she said, smiling, “and you lived.”

He ruffled his feathers to express irritation. Extending a wing, he lay down on his side, and climbed on top of the feathers that rested on the ground. He curled up into a ball by pulling in his arms and legs, and covered his body with the top wing. Before tucking his face deep in the feathers, he glared at her, conveying he was still irked by the lame treatment. With only his yellow hair and feathers exposed, he had transformed into a large nesting bird.

“I’m sorry you’re upset and feel humiliated,” she said, standing, “but this stuff has to be done.” She grabbed the empty jug and went to the woods for more water.

Kari returned shortly and placed the water jug and cup within his reach. “Here’s your water,” she said, and walked toward the cabin.

Shail lifted his head and watched her disappear inside the man-made structure. She was gone all morning, and he heard brushing and banging sounds coming from inside. His inquisitiveness got to him, and though annoyed, he missed her. He struggled to his feet and slowly walked to the doorway. Peering in, he saw her hard at work, scrubbing a wooden platform. He tilted his head and watched her.

She frowned when she finally noticed him. “You’re supposed to be resting,” she said. “Since you’re here, you might as well come in and lie down. I found some clean sheets for the bed.”